Crona's Journey (That's Dearly Needed)
by Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto
Summary: Crona works to better himself through a bit of growing up right after the Asura Incident, and learns ALL about drama, prejudice, and critics, and falling in love as he hopes to re-enter the DWMA all while another threat looms over the students and Lord Death himself!
1. Will Crona Stay in the DWMA?

**Whassup?! I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Crazy, right? Okay**, **so everyone reading this is probably going "Huh?" Or maybe, "I thought you were dead!" OR EVEN, "Don't you owe me a bag of milk?" And to that, I say I kinda have an explanation for my absence that'll be the chapter that's NEW. Yeah. But first I'm going through every chapter and editing the fudge out of them. So here's a remodeled chapter one!**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Do I own this? No. Wait, maybe? Hm... Yea, I don't own Soul Eater. I don't even know the name of the dude that does own it. But I know the person that owns Soul Eater happens to be a dude. Good enough, right?**

* * *

"What'da ya groanin' 'bout now?!" a strange black demon whined as he materialized behind the young pink-haired boy's back. Mr. Corner was really actually quite comfortable and it had yet to harm him, like _she_ did. Not even the scary blue man could hurt him here with Mr. Corner, even with his bribes of 'food' if the boy could only leave Mr. Corner's protection. Like that was an option.

"Nothing, Ragnarok. I'm fine." he mumbled through a stained pillow that reeked of rot and mold. Maybe, just maybe, if he sat there long enough the world would pass him by and forget he existed. That would be nice-a world he could just sit in the dark with no one to judge him for not being strong like Make, or like Kid, or even like Black*Star.

The demon, Ragnarok, huffed impatiently, "It's gonna be fine, 'kay? It's not like they're gonna just kick ya out- they've just been busy!"

"Hmm?"

"Lookie here, I know that's what been buggin' ya! If ya forgot, let me remind ya: I am you! I hear every wimpy thought that goes through that stupid head of yours!" Ragnarok muttered, tugging gingerly on the boy's ear before adding, "even when I don't wanna hear your thought, I do!"

"What I did was wrong, Ragnarok, and they all know that. Why should they help me when I hurt them last time they did?"

What day was today? The scary blue man said it was Monday, so that made it a full week. One week since that weird person covered in band-aids died when Maka punched them in the face. Was that person a man or a woman? They had awfully long hair and really big hips, but their voice was low like a man's...then again, he wasn't one to talk about gender issues.

Yesterday, Maka came down into the DWMA dungeon to visit the boy, carrying a small brown bag of candies for the demon. It was nice, considering it was her first visit since punching that man/woman/it-thing, but the scary blue man made her leave after a couple of minutes, saying that the boy was to be alone until Lord Death made his decision.

Ragnarok growled lowly in the pit of his throat, tapping firmly on the boy's head, "You're just worryin' too much 'gain."

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry." the boy whispered more confidently, but whether that confidence was real or fake was a mystery. "Mister Corner will protect me, so don't worry."

"I said that _you're_ worry'in, not me," Ragnarok made a squeezing gesture with the large white 'x' lying over his brow, making it appear as if he was scowling at the boy. "Or are ya just talkin' to yarself? Cuz that's the first sign of insanity-wait, it's too late for that cuz you're already insane!"

But the demon's insult didn't receive a response. A minute ticked by and slowly the demon glanced down at the boy, grunting when he noticed that the boy was snoring quietly, fast asleep with his head buried in Mr. Pillow.

"Crona? Are you still alive in there?" a deep voice thundered outside the room, startling the boy awake. His brow furrowed into a frown as he pondered what the voice meant by 'alive,' because if anything he seemed dead on the inside.

_CREAK!_

The door shuddered as it opened and the scary blue man looked hesitantly around the room before stepping inside with a confused glint his dead eyes until he peeked into Mr. Corner. Apprehension washed itself into his features as he began to speak, "Hey! Crona! It's okay! I'm not gonna hurt-"

The boy shrunk away, cowering in Mr. Corner as his teeth chattered nervously.

"Look, Crona. Lord Death's decided about your position, and I know you're scared, but you need to calm down." the scary blue man scoffed, like he didn't care. But why would he care? It didn't affect the man one bit if the boy died, right? Then he snapped his blue bulky fingers together, "Crona? He wants to see you now. He even made some tea for you, so you better hurry so it doesn't get cold before you drink it!"

That was his idea? Bribery? Hadn't he already done that? That was his idea every day, and it yet to work. Still, the boy needed to get up now. This was it-he was finally going to get know what Lord Death had decided for him. Biting down on his lip harshly, he moved Mr. Pillow to the ground beside him. He didn't dare look up at the man as he stood uncertainly, deciding that watching his boots were a much better thing to stare at as he mumbled, "O-Okay."

The scary blue man gawked, amazed at something as so small at the boy saying a single word to him. Hastily, he shook it off, leading the boy out of the room, "Alright! I mean, uh, alright. Yeah, just this way, so just, um, follow me."

This was it.

* * *

_**Time change: Later in the Death Room**_

* * *

The scary blue man sat the boy down in middle of a large intimidating room that was filled with gravestones. They were on a platform, and in front of the boy tiny seat cushion was porcelain tea cup filled with a brown flower-scented liquid. A black masked figure stared into a mirror without an image in front of them, not making a single gesture to insure them that he knew that they were present. Despite this, the scary blue man didn't say anything and simple waited, satisfied with standing beside the boy.

"Thank you, Sid!" the masked man clapped his hands cheerfully, then turning around to view them. How did he know they were there? "Crona, I think it would be better for everyone if I just got to the point rather than beating around the bush."

The boy scratched at his scrawny pale arm anxiously. Beat around the bush? What bush was he beating? Such a strange thing to say. Still, he bowed his head in defeat, sure of what this man was going to say as his mouth quivered as he spoke, "Y-Y-Yes, s-sir. I u-understand."

"Calm down now. This may be quite a shock to you, but there are stories in this world that have happy endings rather than tragic ones," the man shook his head in disapproval. "And you have a few good deeds under your belt now, with you helping Marie hunt down and kill-"

He stopped himself suddenly, humming in the back of his throat as he began again, "But you did betray our trust. And there's the fact that the students don't exactly like you anymore-I mean they never did, but before they at least tolerated the idea of you being there. Kid went about, asking some sources in the student body-unfortunately they aren't keen to the idea of you being simply remitted into the DWMA without any punishment. A few students thought banishment would work best for this situation, and a far too many for my liking wanted you to be executed."

This is it. He was going to die, squashed like the worm he was. And no one would mind, they wanted him to die. It helped everyone if he died, so this was it. The masked man might say the last thing he may hear: his death sentence.

Instead, the scary blue man, coughed into his hand awkwardly. Never mind who issued his death, it was still going to happen, right? "After some consideration, Lord Death and a selected group of Death weapons decided that you would be isolated for the next month in the dungeon while one of the teachers at the academy tutored you in the ways of the world. Then, after a couple of tests, you'll be reintroduced to the world to see how you handle it and if _that_ goes well we'll see about letting you enter the academy as a student again. But keep in mind that this is your last chance-screw this up and the punishment will be much more severe than a time-out for you and Ragnarok-speaking of which, where is that little guy?"

"What do mean _little,_ ya puny humans?!" Ragnarok growled, appearing on cue as he leaned over at the scary blue man, then punching the man hard in the gut with his tiny fist before disappearing back into the boy.

"I-I'm s-so s-sorry!" the boy stuttered, waving his arms frantically. Stupid Ragnarok, he probably just lost their last chance! But the oddest thing happened: the scary blue man began to chuckle in his booming voice as he rubbed his stomach sorely.

"It's fine, Crona." the scary blue man bared his teeth. Was he grinning? It was hard to tell with how little his jaw moved.

"But hey!" the masked man nodded, his mask holding a happy expression. "Think of it this way: if everything goes well, you'll get to see Maka and everybody in only a little over a month!"

Then an awkward silence consumed the air as the boy thought, letting what the masked man said finally sink into his _stupid_ head. He wasn't going to die? He could _live_ in Death City, he could _attend_ the academy again, he could _see_ his friends again? Was he dreaming? He had to be, he had to still be in Mr. Corner, sleeping while Lord Death decided the most painful way to kill the boy. But it wasn't a dream, this was _real_.

"O-Okay, Sir!" the boy yelped, shattering the silence in a voice that much louder than how he normally spoke.

"Okay, then! You're dismissed then! The class will start tomorrow, so get plenty of rest tonight!" the masked man nodded, turning back to his mirror as he waved them away. "And Sid? Come back when you're done. I need to talk to you about something."

* * *

_**Oh! Another time change! Uh... it's after the last scene, but same setting. Death Room.**_

* * *

"Yes, Lord Death? What did you want to talk to me about?" Sid nearly shouted. It had been nearly ten minutes since he had gotten there and Lord Death had yet to say anything.

"Oh! There you are, Sid! I was starting to wonder if you got lost!" Lord Death cheerfully announces, completely oblivious to Sid's annoyance.

"Eh? No, Sir. What did you want to see me for?" Sid sweat-dropped. He could make a point, but he liked his job and he didn't need to get on his boss's bad side.

"It's about Crona. I hope this works, because if it doesn't I'll have no choice but to force him to leave the city. The students just don't just feel 'uncomfortable' around Crona- they hate him." Lord Death softly gazed down toward Sid.

"Yeah, but Crona will learn to 'deal with it.' Eventually, at least. But we're not asking him to learn everything now. He'll just take things one step at a time."

"Most likely, but there's a chance he might go back to his old ways if we're not careful. And we're going to require his and Ragnarok's assistance eventually if we're to defeat the threat."

"Speaking of that, Lord Death." Sid paused cautiously before continuing. "When are we going to inform the students about that?"

"Not for quite some time, Sid. The students just defeated Asura. We should give them time to just relax and enjoy being kids. The threat isn't even that bad."

"Yet." Sid supplied as he shuffled his feet.

"Yes, Sid. Yet."

* * *

**And scene! So, that was chapter one! What'cha think? Oooookay, I'm just gonna leave you and the review button alone now cuz this little birdie flew over and told me that you two need some alone time. If you know what I mean. And I know you that you know.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	2. Lessons? Are you sure?

**So this the remodeled version of chapter two! Uh...yea that's all I've got so I'll just go now...**

* * *

**I sent an email to see if I could own the rights Soul Eater. They haven't answered back. So, I guess I don't own anything! Not even the idea of this plot, cuz APPARENTLY you can't own an idea...but the plot is mine since this in a tangible form. YEAH copyright laws!**

* * *

_**Time stuff: The next morning in a cell room under the Death Weapon Meister Academy**_

* * *

"Crona? Just pick the option _you _would rather eat." Professor Stein groans for the umpteenth time inside the dark, dank cell room underground the DWMA. How long had they been in this tiny room? Professor Stein had managed to drag Crona out of Mr. Corner not too long ago, early in the morning. So not that long, right? They were sitting at an unstable metal table with a single lamp with a flickering light bulb and two hard, uncomfortable chairs with one chair on each side of the table.

"I-I'll h-have t-th-that one, S-Sir. Or m-maybe t-that one." Crona frowned as he pointed at the two plates, one a sweet circular object with a glaze on it, a 'doughnut' according to the professor, and the second was an 'omelet.' What did food have to do with anything? He was supposed to be starting some classes, right? So why did it matter what plate he took? What if this was a test? If he chose wrong, would he not get to see Maka again?

"Ya stupid wimp!" Ragnarok pounced once again, but like with every attempt at this, Professor Stein moved the plates swiftly out of the demon's reach. "Come on! Gimme some! At least I'll eat this trash!"

"No, Ragnarok. This is for Crona, not you. He's to decide what he wants." the professor scolded, flashing his glasses in the poor lighting.

"R-Ragnarok can p-pick, S-Sir. It's f-fine with me." Crona mumbled shyly. Maybe this was the best choice for this test?

"Eh? Ya hear that, Gramps?! He said it's fine! And what's it matter to ya, anyway? It's all going to the same place!" Ragnarok swatted at the food in his obnoxiously high-pitched voice.

"Maybe. But _Crona_ should decide, not you. He's the one who's eating. He's in charge." Professor Stein replied lazily. Why wasn't he in a hurry? He still had his classes at the academy to teach, so shouldn't he want arrive before his students? Or at least the students that arrived late? Namely, Black*Star?

"Ha! That's a good one, Gramps! Crona's in charge!" Ragnarok bursted out, laughing. But Professor Stein didn't seem amused, as he frowned and flashed his glasses again.

"W-What is t-the point of this, Sir?" Crona stuttered. "I-It's just breakfast."

Professor Stein stopped frowning, but a crease appeared in his brow. He sighed patiently, "Whenever you're ready, Crona."

So he continues to wait calmly for something. For what? For Crona to choose his breakfast? Hadn't they been doing that long enough? He simply didn't want to choose.

"C-Can I g-go back t-to m-my r-r-room, Sir? I-I don't know h-how to deal with this, and I-I'm n-not even that hungry."

But the professor doesn't reply, standing up abruptly and stalking out of the room as he slammed the door behind him.

So naturally, Ragnarok took this as his chance to gobble up both meals. Maybe Crona should stop him, what Ragnarok was doing _was_ rude, but then again-why should he? He wasn't in charge.

* * *

_**Time? Well, I need to go look at a watch? What? I'm always supposed to know cuz I'm the narrating voice? Screw you! You can just figure it out without my help cuz I quit!**_

* * *

"So after a 'nutritional' breakfast, we're going to go over some ways to deal with stress." Professor Stein coughed, slumping casually back into his chair ten minutes later after he rushed out and Ragnarok ate the food from both plates. Now the plates were stacked neatly on the edge of the table and the professor now had a small backpack lying beside him with things tossed messily outside it.

"O-Okay." Crona murmured, shoulders slumped meekly. There was no food involved now, so Ragnarok refused to make his appearance.

"Before I begin, Crona. Do you know of any ways to relieve stress?"

"Um … M-Maka always s-said writing poetry helped." Crona glanced down at the pile of supplies, noting that there was no paper to write poetry on in the pile. His pulse quickened-did he answer incorrectly?

"Well, yes. Writing is _a _way to help stress, but I was hoping you knew of- how do I put this lightly? Ah, yes, more _masculine_ ways to do so." Professor Stein shook his head, pulling something out from the bottom of the pile.

More masculine? Doesn't everyone write poems to get the feelings they can't deal with out into the open? Don't Kid, Black*Star, and Soul write for fun? They had to, right?

"No? Well, I guess one way is better than nothing" the professor muttered under his breathe, as if he was trying to make it so the boy couldn't hear him-although it didn't work. Of course Crona heard him, they were only three feet away from each other! Yet Crona didn't say anything-what the professor said wasn't insulting in any way, so maybe it just an honest mistake?

Then, Professor Stein grinned crazily with a glitter of delusion twinkling behind his glasses, "Well! I guess it's my job to teach you a better way then!"

He took that as his chance to place two weights on the table, which groaned under the pressure. The weights looked like something Black*Star would use, except much lighter, "The best way I think you should release your anger is though exercise. Lord Death said you need to work out some anyway, so this way we can kill two birds with one stone, right?"

Killing birds? They were going to _kill birds _with those oh-so-innocent weights?! And what stone were they going to get?! Crona yelped away, waving his arms in front of himself with wide eyes, "I-I don't think I c-can deal with k-killing birds, Sir!"

"What? No. Why would-?" the professor frowned, confusion delicately hidden in his face before he began to laugh. How-_how_ could he be happy about killing helpless birds? Was he really that insane?! "No, Crona. We're not going to actually kill birds. It's an expression. Which reminds me, Lord Death also wants you to learn a bit of slang to you don't misinterpret what others are saying to you. I can see why now."

"'O-Oh. S-sorry, Sir." Crona apologized hastily, embarrassed. Then what were they going to do with those bird-killing weights? Besides not kill birds?

"Here." Professor Stein put one weight in each of the boy's hands. Odd. The weights were a lot heavier than they looked. "Now lift them up."

And so he did. His arms struggled under the pressure, shaking lightly. How did Black*Star do this so easily? After doing the action of lifting and lowering the weights a couple of times, he asked shyly, "L-Like this?"

Concern was laced into the professor's brow as he replied hesitantly, "Yeah, like that."

* * *

_**Okay, so apparently I can't quit since I signed a contract with the author. But hi everybody! I'm Steve, your friendly narrator! Yes, that Steve! So time and setting: Hours later in the desert outside of Death City. Good? Good.**_

* * *

Two figures stumbled across the derert plain as the sun lazily drooled in the sky above them. One figure was much bigger than the other, bulky and muscular but they had a huge chain on their foot that dug into the sand with each aching step they took. The other figure was small and delicate compared to their companion while a tall pointed hat sat on their head.

"So, what'da we gonna do now?" the large figure panted loudly, stretching their arms over their head.

"*Ribbit* I don't know. *Ribbit* Maybe go find someone else to work for. *Ribbit* I might go back to the council. *Ribbit*" the smaller figure croaked uncomfortably in the heat. "*Ribbit* Hey, you want to set up camp here? *Ribbit*?"

"Sure. I'm gonna get some firewood." the larger figure nodded, starting to wander away until the smaller figure snatched the hem of their shirt, stopping the larger figure from leaving. "Hm?"

"*Ribbit* What firewood? *Ribbit* We're in the middle in the desert! *Ribbit*" the smaller figure scoffed in a way that suggested they were used to the larger figure's absent-mindness.

"Oh." the larger figure hummed, plopping down onto the hot sand with a soft thud. Cautiously, they watched the towering city in the distance and pointed, "Ya think we could go there?"

"*Ribbit* Maybe. I guess we'll just have to go there and find out. *Ribbit*"

* * *

**Can you guess who the two figures are? And they're not completely random! They'll get placed into the plot line somehow!**

**Huh, Crona seems like a wimp in this chapter. But I guess he is. For now, at least!**

**REVEW for the sake of the author. The author loves all his readers, but loves the readers that review the mostest.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	3. A bowl of happy noodles!

**Chapter three! Who's ready?! Looks into empty crowd and sees a fat dude walking by with a bag* You sir! Are you ready?!**

**Fat dude: You again? Can't I buy my bag of milk in peace?!**

**Me: Seriously, who buys liquid milk in a bag without anything to hold the actual milk?!**

**Fat dude: I do have something to hold the milk. My bag.**

**Okay, that dude's weird. I buy my milk in plastic jugs, but maybe that's weird to him. Anyway, uh... Oh! Ragnarok says a naughty word near the beginning of the chapter-in fact I can see without scrolling down on my laptop right now. But I'm pretty sure this is rated T, so as long as I only use the eff word once, and all sex is completely in clothes and not too descriptive, I'm good. Wait, I think there's also a thing about blood and crud...hmmmm...Well, I'll just stick to the sex rules with blood.**

* * *

**Do I own anything? Yes, I own a dog, a pair of pants, a six pack...of pudding. But Soul Eater? Nope, still working on that one but until then, NO I own nothing! Stop buggin meh! I just wanna be a normal boy! *Runs off away from fake paparazzi***

* * *

_**Steve says that its been two days of within story time since the last chapter in the morning! Yay!**_

* * *

"Fine! Stay in there! See if I care!" Professor Stein's voice huffed from outside the door of Crona's room. Then his shoes clunked away in frustration. Great. That was what Crona wanted. To be alone in the comforting arms of Mr. Corner while he listened to the steady drip of water fall from the ceiling. So he sighed contently to himself in the darkness of his room.

But nothing could be that easy for the boy, so Ragnarok growled as he roughly forced himself out. With a painful thrust, he whacked the boy angrily on the head as he snarled, "What the hell's wrong with ya?! Why can't ya just do what that old buggar asks?! It would make things easier, Crona, easier! But naw, ya gotta go and make things difficult!"

"It's hard, Ragnarok. Don't you get that? You have to. I mean, you said you know everything about me, so you have to know, right?" Crona whispered to Mr. Pillow meekly, disgusted with the mildew scent it had, but he wasn't about to complain. "So why can't he get that?"

Two days. Two days full of those stupid lessons. Everything was falling into a sickening routine: Professor Stein would drag him out of Mr. Corner to that table in the room down the hall to try and get Crona to decide on what stupid plate of breakfast he wanted, even though he didn't want either plate because he wasn't hungry. Then the professor would leave for maybe ten minutes and Ragnarok would eat the food off of both plates. After that, Professor Stein would come back with his stupid bag with those stupid weights and tells Crona to lift them while he goes and teaches his morning classes. And Crona couldn't disobey, because he was trying to prove he was _good_.

Then, hours later, the professor would come back with two plates filled with food, saying it was for lunch. Then they would do the same stupid thing they did at breakfast with the same stupid results. Then he would leave immediately to teach his afternoon classes while Crona as supposed to read some book filled with strange phases that the other students say. Not that he understand any of the book. It was all so-_so_ _stupid_!

Later it's dinner time with two different plates and the professor always gets the same results. So the professor takes Crona back to Mr. Corner and they do the same thing the next day.

Now his body felt like lead-everything was sore and hurting. His head ached with those stupid words swimming around without meanings to them. And now Crona had made the professor mad.

Maybe it would be easier if he died. It would, right? A few days ago, he was sure that dying was best for everyone, but why was he confused about this now? Death never confused him before, not even when he worked for Lady Medusa, so why now? What was wrong with him?!

Ragnarok rubbed his chin thoughtfully from his perch on Crona's back but remained silent. What? Had Crona said something to offend the weapon? Then, the demon grinned, ruffling the boy's pink hair fondly, "Aw! Look who's angry!"

"Huh? I'm not angry," Crona mumbled into Mr. Pillow, confused at the tight heat gripping at him. Was it coming inside him? Or was it Mr. Pillow that was making him feel this? "It's just that all of this is so...stupid."

Then the demon laughed loudly, his voice echoing back off of the walls of the cell. Wasn't he mad a minute ago? How is he so happy all of a sudden? Disappearing back into Crona, Ragnarok snickered, "Sure, you saber-toothed tiger, you!"

* * *

_**Oi! A Stein POV! Time: well, the exact time that was left at the last scene. So...uh...Enter the Death Room!**_

* * *

Stein stormed into the Death room impatiently, his hand itching to grasp a lighter and a cigarette. Normally he would be calm, but for the love of Death-Crona was driving him over the brink of madness all over again! Halting to a stop, he glowered at the back of Lord Death, who was still watching his imageless mirror. He felt his jaw tighten in anger, but he forced himself to take a deep breath before speaking to his boss, "Lord Death, Sir? May I speak with you?"

"Yes, Stein?" Lord Death turned around, his mask drawn into an expectant expression. "What is it?"

"Well, with all due respect, Sir" he began in a low voice, trying to at least fake a calm exterior for now. "Why am _I_, of all people at the academy, teaching Crona? Shouldn't I be focusing on my other students? How am I supposed to help someone who doesn't want to be helped?"

Humming to himself, Lord Death edged closer to the professor and away from his mirror. "That? Well, besides Marie, you're the teacher he knows best here at the academy. I would have Marie teach him, but I feel that Crona could use a male figure in his life-his witch of a mother wasn't the most nurturing woman."

Stein nodded silently, waiting for Lord Death to continue. No need to interupt him-it might make the god angry and Stein didn't want to see an angry god of death _again_.

"Besides, he needs to ties some loose knots with you, right? It would ease things with the students to know you forgave him for his actions, and then _they_ might forgive him," Lord Death went on, waving his hand to accusingly at Stein. "And stop that! You don't need to bury yourself in work, and more importantly, bury the students in work! They'll still in shock from the incident, so you don't need to 'focus' on them so much you start giving them essays to write over your dissections!"

"And if this doesn't work? Crona has shown to be unpredictable, so how do you know he'll give his loyalty to us if he won't even do his lessons?" Stein retorted dryly. "Even with Medusa dead, he could still turn on us. The rate of madness is declining, but it's not gone-he could very well go insane."

"He very well could, but I try to give people mercy now-the benefit of the doubt, if you will. Give him time to adjust, Stein. Don't force things onto him-everyone works at their own pace. Maybe try from different angles and change things up. Just don't expect him to pick up everything at once."

"So just give him time? That's all there is to it?"

"Basically, yes."

* * *

_**It is exactly 11:38:59 a.m. on August 14**__**th**__**. Yes, that was down to the seconds! Just doing my job!**_

* * *

A man and a woman slumped on the pavement a Death City road, sweating under the shade of a grocer's outdoor awning. The man wiped grime from his brow, careful to not damage the eye patch on his eye. The heat was enough to make him want to ripe off the gray trench coat off his shoulders, but as the woman beside him told him earlier, he couldn't. Under the coat was a tiny blue polo shirt that made him feel like he attending a college frat party-which he wouldn't mind. Those were always fun. He shuffled his brown boots under his denim jeans, annoyed. Under the insane disguise, he was still wearing his typical jail-bird onesie-it was too many layers!

The woman grimaced, guilt nipping at her as she saw the man pant in pain. She was lucky-she was wearing a simple dress. Although, she realized how the heels she was wearing on her feet made her ache as she fanned herself with her hat.

"Finally! Took long enough!" the man groans, rubbing his ankle feebly, irritated how it felt burnt from the metal chain that was on it earlier before entering the city. "Come on! I wanna go to the nearest restaurant-maybe they'll have steak so rare they'll just sell me a live cow!"

"*Ribbit* What? No, Free! We came here to be civilized, so at least wait a bit before going off! *Ribbit*" the woman reprimanded the man, Free, with a light whack with her hat.

"Aw! Come on, Eruka! How's about a fly stew" Free insisted with a tired grin. "I know ya want one!"

"*Ribbit* Later, Free! Later!" the woman scowled, staggering off down the street without Free.

"H-Hey! Wait up!" Free frowned, sprinting after her. "What about that nice cafe ya were told me about?! I want part of it!"

Eruka shook her head, sighing, before glancing up at the tall man beside her, "Really? *Ribbit* You want to own a cafe-with me? Aren't you Mr. I'm Immortal? Don't you have better things to do like running off into the moonlight screaming *Ribbit* about how you're invincible?"

"It sounds nice!" Free smiled innocently, rubbing his cheek with his palm. He noticed that it was warm from the heat. "I don't hafta fight all the time, ya know. And any who, I'm always up for helping a friend with their dreams!"

"Hilarious," Eruka sweat-dropped. "It's not that I mind working with you-it's just weird."

"What'da ya mean?"

"When I met you, *Ribbit* all you wanted to do was repay Medu- her, and then terrorize other witches again. *Ribbit*"

"So?" Free glance down at her before whipping his head back up when he felt his cheeks flush from embarrassment. "W-Well, maybe my ideals just changed a bit! So-when are we gonna open up shop?!"

"*Ribbit* Free? We haven't even gotten a place to 'open up shop' at. *Ribbit*"

"Oh. Then later today?"

* * *

_**ARGH! Steve likes this scene, but it makes him hungry! No fair! I want some snacks to nibble on while I read!**_

* * *

What meal was this supposed to be? Dinner? Yes, this was dinner. Professor Stein just came into the room, sat the two plates on the table and left. He didn't even try to make Crona pick what he wanted to eat, and he seemed calmer. Maybe he wrote some poetry to get rid of the feelings he couldn't deal with?

Which was good. Maybe the professor did get it. Crona didn't want to decide.

Crona wasn't in charge. That's all there was to it.

Yet the plates in front of him looked like they would taste good. One was plate of noodles and the other plate had sushi on it. Staring at the food made him feel odd. His stomach twisted in knots and made a low grumbling sound. As he swallowed, he realized he was drooling and his stomach _hurt_. Not like somebody punched him-no, this pain was on the inside. This is the same pain he had forgotten a long time ago-one of the many pains Lady Medusa made him feel every day until he forgot what is was like to hurt, to be hungry. He was hungry? The thought stuck him-yes, he was hungry.

Ragnarok lurched himself outside from hiding and sprang for the food, giddy with excitement, "Yum! The real question is which one first!"

As the demon stretched for the plate of noodles, Crona's hand twitched faster than Ragnarok's and slid the plate out of reach. His mouth opened, and a single word fell out gruffly, "Don't!"

Ragnarok leaned back, startled. Slowly, he frowned in disapproval, "What gives?"

"Uh..." Crona grimaced at himself. How was he going to explain himself now? But his stomach twisted again angrily. He bit hard on his lip as he stuttered, making his voice sound muffled, "t-that's mine, R-Ragnarok."

The weapon pouted, staring at the wall for a minute, as if it held some answer to him. Then he sighed, bonking the boy lightly on the head as he grumbled, "Fine, Gutsy. But keep in mind that this ain't over."

Then he disappeared. Gutsy? What did that mean? This was just food, right?

Still, Crona pulled the plate of noodle closer to himself and picked up the pair of chopsticks. If he listened, he could hear the water drip the ceiling in this room. The noodles tasted better than they looked, and they filled his aching stomach. Once he finished, he wiped his mouth with the napkin folded neatly under the plate of sushi and put the used napkin on the empty plate.

Then he pushed both of the plates away from himself. Professor Stein should be back soon, right? It had to be close to ten minutes now.

What were his friends doing right now? Surely, they couldn't know he was here since he was supposedly isolated from the outside world right now, so were they worried about him? Right now, were they eating dinner? Was Maka reading a book about poetry? Could Tsubaki make these noodles even better than the professor made them?

"Crona? Are you ready to go back to your room?" the door creaked open and Professor Stein lazily glanced at the table, expecting to see the usual damage that Ragnarok caused during meals. "Hm? Was he not that hungry today?"

"Uh-n-no, S-Sir. I, um, a-ate the n-noodles. T-Thank y-you." Crona grasped the plates as he stood, fear making his hands shake as he handed the plates to the professor. The sooner Professor Stein cleaned up, the sooner Crona could return to Mr. Corner.

Professor Stein frowned in confusion, then a creepy smile spread across his face.

"W-W-What are you s-so happy a-about, S-Sir?"

Maybe Crona didn't speak loud enough, because the professor doesn't respond. Instead he continues to grin, mumbling to himself too quietly for Crona to hear.

Why was he so happy? It was just food, right?

Then he remember a phase from that book full of things that the students said.

And he thought this phase with a tiny shrug.

Whatever.

* * *

**Cut! You! *Points at Free* You were out of character in that scene! This whole movie is gonna be a bust cuz of you!**

**Free: This is a movie? I thought it was fanfiction...which is written?**

**No! Stop trying to outsmart me! You can't, Free, you can't! You can't even outsmart yourself, so HA! HA ON YOU!**

**So, that is my metaphor to tell you to review! Get it? No?**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	4. Flies and Notes

**Chapter four! ARGH, this re-editing stuff is killin' meh! But this chapter entertained me. Just a bit. Don't tell anybody I said that. They might start to think I have a heart.**

* * *

**Thangs I just dont own: a heart, corect spelin or gramar, or dis thang called "Soul Eater"**

**Thangs I just do own: Devon. He mine. He fluffy. He fun. I own his soul.**

* * *

_**Hm... the next day after the last chapter. Setting: the above ground DWMA hallways.**_

* * *

"Two lefts, then right. Two lefts, then right." Crona grumbled under his breath, stiffly walking down the DWMA hallway as he held a crisp envelope in his hands tightly. So far, Crona had notice that the above ground was much brighter than the dungeon and it smelled better."Two lefts, then right."

"Ya sure it wasn't two rights, and then left?" Ragnarok smirked on Crona's back, eying the letter causally.

"Ragnarok! Don't say that! It's two lefts and then a right!" he huffed, an ache dully swaying in his head from the irritation of the weapon hanging above him. He had to hurry to deliver this letter to the scary blue man without bumping into anybody else-he was supposed to be in isolation. "We have to get it right! Professor Stein is counting on us!"

"Don't you mean we have to get it left?" the demon bit his tongue cheekily at his own joke as he snickered.

"What? No, Ragnarok! S-Stop trying to confuse me!" Crona scolded meekly as Ragnarok guffawed at him.

The professor was still acting strange from when Crona simply ate those noodles last night and had ordered the immediate delivery of this note. He wouldn't say why or what the note said, just that the scary blue man needed to read it today.

"Ya know, if you talked to people like ya talk to me, you'd seem pretty normal." Ragnarok teased, yanking on Crona's pink hair as they continued down the hall. "But ya can't seem to do that, can ya?"

Come to think of it, Ragnarok was even acting odd since last night. He was still mean, but it was a weird friendly kind of mean. If that makes any sense. Then he would be really mean, like Crona had punched him or something. Oh well. Ragnarok's moodiness would pass eventually, right?

"Um... R-Ragnarok?" Crona coughed awkwardly at the hallway intersection, his eyes wide in alarm and his pulse quickening.

"Hm?" Ragnarok growled grumpily, his playfulness dissipating into aggravation suddenly. "What'da ya want now?"

"Do we go right here, or left?"

* * *

_**About five minutes later.**_

* * *

"H-Hey! Thanks, Crona!" the scary blue man shouted from his little cramped office, waving his giant hand as Crona scurried away as quickly as his legs would carry him. "If you like, I have some tea brewing right now...No? Okay, nice talking to you!"

Not that Crona was actually listening. No, he far too busy taking a sharp corner into a random hallway and wedging himself in the doorway. He held his breath, listening for the scary blue man's footsteps over the thundering beat of his heart. His fist was clenched tightly-maybe if the scary blue man came, he could pretend he was Maka for a moment and punch the man like she punched Asura.

One, two. He counted slowly, drawing out each number longer than the number before it as he waited. Three, four. He didn't hear anything, so maybe he was safe?

"Seriously? What'da ya think-?" Ragnarok grumbled, fidgeting around to be comfortable. Then he stopped, abruptly yelling out, "Hey! What's that?!"

"Ragnarok, be quiet! Someone might hear us!" he hushed the demon as he looked over at what Ragnarok was staring at-a round trash can, completely filthy and covered in gunk. "And that's just trash!"

"Well, duh! I meant behind the trash!" Ragnarok shouted, ignoring Crona's attempt to quiet him.

Slowly, carefully, Crona tip-toed over the trash can. The trash can had a large dent at one side of its base-Kid would probably die just looking at this thing. Crona frowned, annoyed as he retorted, "There's nothing here, Ragnarok!"

"Really?! Then what'da ya call that?" the demon pointed with his tiny fist to a black object tucked snugly behind the damaged trash can.

"Uh...well, it's um... I dunno." Crona cocked his head to the side, confused as he picked up the object. It was disfigured and an odor of something burnt wafted from it. His fingers rubbed against its rough surface and he held up to the lights in the ceiling. It looked vaguely familiar, but from where? It almost made him think of the novelty masks that visiting tourist bought from the Death City gift shop.

That's it! It was one of those novelty masks! But then he was left to wonder why it was so damaged and left beside rather than inside the trash can. Still, he could worry about that later. He needed to get back to the professor. So, naturally, he slumped his shoulders as he tossed the mask in the trash can despite Ragnarok's questions.

"Hey! What'da ya think yer doin'?!" a loud, booming voice thundered down the hall. Ragnarok swallowed, disappearing back into his meister's bloodstream as Crona stood rigidly in apprehension.

Footsteps. First, slow and quiet, then rapid and clumping on the tiles of the floor. He couldn't force himself to turn around to see his attacker- it had to be the scary blue man back for revenge!

"Oof!" Crona wheezed as he was slammed into the lockers, the trash can knocked over and the mask skidding across the floor. His blood thickened, and Ragnarok growled inside him as Crona looked at his attacker through narrowed eyes.

No, it wasn't the scary blue man. It was a tall boy that was had his hand clamped on Crona's throat. This boy was wearing a uniform like Maka, so he had to be a DWMA student. Instead of a skirt like Maka wore, he wore loose slacks and he had greasy black hair than waved in front of his angry bloodshot brown eyes. Although, the most important thing Crona was worried about was the dangerous looking blade that took the place of the boy's right forearm that was awfully close to Crona's throat. Then, the boy snarled, "Well?! Ain't ya gonna say somethin'?!"

"I-I-I s-s-s-so s-s-sorry!" Crona stuttered, shaking miserably against the lockers at Ragnarok screamed inside him. What was he saying? He couldn't tell, not under this boy's furious glare.

"I'm gonna say dis once, so ya betta hear meh good!" the boy barked, spit spraying on Crona's face. This boy-he seemed familiar. He had seen this boy at the academy before, right? What was his name? "I'd should get rid of ya, right here and now! Murderers ain't welcome in dis city!

"Ya do not touch mah stuff! Ya got dat?!" the boy gritted his teeth, glaring pointedly at the burnt mask in the trash can and snarled again. "If anythin' oughtta be in the trash, it's be you! Don't act like ya don't know ya started dis whole madness nonsense! Lord Death might be real nice sometimes, but once ya get outta dat jail room, yer toast, ya got that?!"

The boy pushed himself off of Crona with a shove, but leaned his blade closer to Crona's throat, "Ya oughtta know yer place, murderers like ya shouldn't get second chances!"

Then the boy snatched the burnt mask, stalking down the hall. As he neared the doorway, he clenched his jaw before screaming out, "Just 'member dat, Murderer!"

Crona slid down the lockers, falling sluggishly with a thud. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as his cheeks felt oddly warm from embarrassment. But what was he feeling? Shock? Anger?

Dread?

No, he couldn't be feeling dread. That would imply he did something wrong.

Wait.

He did do something wrong.

He was a murderer. Just like that boy said. He used to kill people, so this was justice.

Right?

* * *

_**Oh no! Steve's so scared now! Why is Steve still talking in third person? Because he can! Next time change: meanwhile in the business district of Death City. At a funky old wooden building. Steve is wondering what's up with these settings. Weird author.**_

* * *

"*Ribbit* That's a stupid name, Free!" Eruka rolled her eyes, wiping the wooden counter top at the long bar on the east side of the large room. After fighting tooth and nail with Free over what building they would set up at, they had ended up at a two story structure at the corner of Washington Avenue and Jackson Drive. Which wouldn't seem that bad after seeing exactly thirty-seven different shops across the city, except that this store was the first building the real estate agent had shown them.

"And your name is any better?" Free groaned, his feet propped up on a table covered in dust as he sat in a lawn chair that had come free with the place. Lazily, he flipped a page of the hunting magazine that she had found under the counter.

"Three Little Flies is a great name! I don't see what's wrong with it!" she scoffed, still unsatisfied with how she couldn't see her reflection in the wax she was putting on the wood. Why wasn't it working? This room was large enough, but it was barren. They would have to ask around for a loan, then order the materials they needed.

But this stupid counter! It wouldn't get clean! And if by some miracle she did get it clean, she had to sweep the floor, wipe off the few tables they had, and march up the staircase beside the counter to see the damaged living space known as their future living area.

"Oh, please! Humans don't like to eat flies!" he sighed, glancing up from his magazine to see the single glass jar of sugar sitting beside Eruka. Completely fly-less. For now. Eruka would always find a way to get some flies.

"Maybe you're right," Eruka sweat-dropped, throwing the cloth she was using to wipe the counter to the ground. Stupid thing didn't work. "But 'Meat Surprise' is not going to be the name! *Ribbit* It sounds disgusting!"

"Disgusting as eating flies?"

"*Ribbit*Flies taste amazing, thank you very much! You people just don't realize what you're missing out on! *Ribbit*" Eruka huffed, kicking the cloth under the counter. Stubborn idiot! Free didn't wouldn't know what hard work was if it bit him in his big lazy butt!

"Fine! I just want to just pick out a name! The sooner we have one, the sooner we can open!" he relented, waving his hand softly in surrender as he continued to read his magazine. "So what else do you have in mind?"

All he heard was a deep throaty croak in response. This caused him to frown-nothing? As he looked up, he raised a brow at Eruka, who was busing herself with counting the grains of sugar in that jar one by one. Awkwardly, he coughed to get her attention, "Erm- you're okay, right?"

"I know!" she slapped her palm on the counter, sugar flying everywhere as excitement bubbled in her eyes. "*Ribbit* We can call it Freedom or Croak!"

He grinned uneasily at her, his cheeks flushing as sweat trickled down the back of his neck. A funny feeling was twisting his gut more and more with each passing moment he stared at her. Was he catching the flu or something? He'd have to ask Eruka to check his temperature later. "Um... Sure, I guess. At least it's better than Three Little Flies."

* * *

**Ah, Free and Eruka! Comic relief much? Also, this chapter seems short...oh well.**

**How many chapter do I have left to re-edit? Well, let's see...there's twelve chapters in total that need me to go through, and this is chapter four. *starts doing math* Zero! I have zero chapters left!**

**Fat dude: *slurps his bag of milk* You forgot to carry the three, Benji.**

**Me: You again?! I didn't mess my math up! See?! *throws papers on the ground* Oh...I read the equation backwards. Crud. Um, let's see...*does more math* Eight! Wait, I have EIGHT chapters left?! Gh'merti, kill me now... -.-"**

**Fat dude: I thought you like the number eight, Benji.**

**Me: Well, I do, but it's such a big number and stuff...**

**Fat dude: Just do it, Benji. You made the readers wait, so now you have to go through this rite of passage.**

**Me: FINE.**

**Fat dude: Good thinking, Benji.**

**Me: Wait! Don't call me Benji! Only my friends get to call me that, and we ain't friends!**

**Fat dude: Whatever floats your boat, Benji.**

**Okay, obviously my boat ain't floating. But you should review, fav, and follow.**

**If you review, my dear readers, you may call me Benji. Deal?**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	5. Old books and Old guys

**Chapter five. Yea~Okay, I've officially lost my mojo for editing. Screw this, editing is boring.**

**Fat dude: No. You have to. We just went over this in the last chapter, Benji.**

**Me: And I told you to stop calling me Benji. We ain't friends, so shuddup!**

**Fat dude: Don't tell me to shut up. That's fat people abuse.**

**Me: OH FOR THE LOVE OF F- Please hush!**

**Fat dude: See? Now how hard was it to use the magic words?**

**Me: I believe the magic words are, "Shut the poshyol up or I'll go find a corn dog and shove it where you don't want to ever find a corn dog when you wake up in the morning."**

**Fat dude: You're mean.**

**Me: You're an American.**

**Fat dude: So are you.**

**Me: But you're a stereotypical stupid fat American. I mean, I'm not Einstein, but I ain't fat, doughnut boy.**

**Fat dude: Don't you have a disclaimer to do?**

**Me: Hm...So I do. Yes, I do! I own nothing. Not even the fat dude. Cuz I live in the United States of America where slavery is wrong.**

**Fat dude: Well it is.**

**Me: OKAY, where did I put that corn dog?!**

* * *

_**The next morning. Outside Crona's room.**_

* * *

"Crona! You're going to have come out eventually whether you like it or not!" Stein grunted, hitting the door with the back of his hand so hard it made the door quiver. Slowly, he turned the screw on his head. Stein had simply asked Crona to deliver a note, and instead of going back to their little makeshift classroom, she had bolted right past and locked herself in her room. What had happened to her? Wait, was Crona a boy or a girl? "Umm..."

"J-J-Just-t-t g-g-go a-away!" a sniffling voice whimpered from the other side of the door.

"Alright. Fine. If that's how you want to be then, I'll just be on my way" he shrugged, his eyes half-closed as he turned on his heel away from the door. He'd just go to the nurse's office and look at Crona's heath records. Those papers had to say if they were a girl or a boy, right? He'd have to ask Sid about the computer's password, but that would only take a moment of his time.

But as he strolled down the hall quietly, Sid sped-walked down another hall with his great zombie might. He held a crumbled note in his hand gingerly, whistling to himself.

"Do-todo!" he began to hum to himself happily. "Dum hap-py li'l zom-bie do dom dum!"

Now, much like Stein, Sid had no idea that right around the corner he was about to take was an insane professor with an assortment of sharp dissection tools in his pocket. So it was only natural that as he turned the corner sharply, he was knocked to the floor by a tall clothed wall.

"Omph! Hmm?" Stein murmured to himself, Sid's weight not even causing him to take a step backwards to maintain his balance as a scalpel fell out of his pocket. Had he run into another wall? He did tend to do that quite often. "Oh-Sid. I was just on my way to find you."

Sid raised one of his thick eyebrows, "Eh? Really? I was just wondering about this note: What do you mean?"

"I mean what it says. Why?"

"Um... Because... Well-" Sid stuttered as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly with one of his huge hands, carefully picking himself off of the dusty stone floor.

"Well _what_, Sid?" Stein interrupted impatiently. In his defense, Crona had been on his nerves lately with this whole 'project', so who could really blame him?

"It's says that you need, and I quote, 'a dozen red roses, a human-sized black sack made of strong material, five liters of laughing gas, a twenty meter long military grade rope, gloves, a black ski mask, and a box of tampo-'" Sid began, but Stein shoved a hand on Sid's mouth to interrupt Sid before he could finish.

"Erk! Um! That's Marie's shopping list! She wanted me to pick up a few things before I go back home." Stein grabbed the note from Sid's hand and stuffed the embarrassing paper into his coat pocket.

"Umm... What does she need a 'human-sized black sack made of strong material' for?"

"Eh? Where does it say that?" Stein quickly gazed over the list one last time before seeing that it does in fact say she wants a very large and specific type of bag and decided to burn the paper as soon as he got the chance.

"Well... Frankly, Sid? I don't know." **(Pun implied.)**

* * *

_**Hmph! Puns are dumb. Doesn't Benji know that? Well, Steve's just gonna say talking in third person is entertaining and the time? Uh...Just as Stein left INSIDE Crona's room. Oh yeah!**_

* * *

Crona sat silently in Mr. Corner, rocking himself back and forth as he tried to suffocate himself with his pillow. He had been sitting there since that-that-that- _stupid bully_ threatened him earlier. If Professor Stein thought he could _ever_ get Crona out of his comforting room, well, was he wrong!

Not even Ragnarok had come out since they were walking down the halls earlier. Crona hoped he was alright. If Ragnarok was hurt, he would be too. It'd kind of be like internal bleeding. And of course there was the fact Ragnarok was somewhat like an annoying older brother. The kind of brother that's attached to your very soul and you can't ever, ever, _ever_ get a break from, no matter what you're doing. Even if you wished you could have a _tiny_ bit of privacy to do that thing.

And then there was that boy-who was he? Crona knew him from somewhere, and maybe if he could figure out where he knew this boy from he could figure out why that boy was so angry with him.

The boy wasn't Maka, Soul, Black*Star, Tsubaki, Kid, Liz, or Patti. And those other students-Ox, Harvar, Kim, Jackie, it wasn't them either. And the boy couldn't possibly be a teacher at the academy. As Crona mentally listed every student at the DWMA that he knew, he only became more and more stumped. And frustrated. Can't forget that.

Crona sighed. Maybe Ragnarok would know? Maybe if he waited just a bit longer, Ragnarok would recover enough to talk. So Crona moved away from Mr. Pillow and stopped rocking back and forth.

_Drip_.

What was that? He whipped his head as he searched the room, his eyes wide with fear. It was raining again. So the water was dripping from the ceiling. Nothing strange about that.

Then, there was a buzzing sensation in the back of his head. Ragnarok.

The demon didn't materialize, but stirred in the deeper parts of Crona's 'empty' head. First it was slow and clumsy like he was sleepy, then he became hasty and panicked as Ragnarok's thin voice echoed, "_Is that freaking twerp gone yet?"_

Crona frowned, pulling Mr. Pillow closer to his body. Was Ragnarok scared? No, he couldn't be. Ragnarok was the brave part of Crona, the part that wasn't ever afraid.

"_What are you talking about?! Why would I be afraid of some little wimp?! I was just wonder'in if I need to rescue you, but I guess I shouldn't! Hmp!" _Ragnarok chided hotly, but his voice quivered. But the sound of the demon's voice didn't sound off. Like Crona was used to this sound. But he wasn't, right? How could he be used to Ragnarok sounding _weak_?

"_I am NOT weak, you twerp!"_ There is was again. Ragnarok's voice was wavering, but it sounded normal. "_Oh, shuddup!"_

Crona sighed into Mr. Pillow, closing his eyes as he leaned his back onto the stone wall from where he was sitting. Who was that boy? He should _know_, but he didn't! Who was that boy?!

"_Oh. I dunno. But if I did, we'd already be out there beating him to a bloody pulp!"_ the demon huffed angrily, stirring more violently. Then, Crona felt his body tense as Ragnarok popped out onto his meister's back. The weapon growled, punching the back of Crona's head hard. "Would you get up?! Sitting here not gonna do nothing! Sheesh!"

Not that Crona was in a getting-up-mood. Nope. He was content with just sitting there in the safe comfort of Mr. Corner. Still, who was that boy? And why was he so mad with Crona?

"I thought I said I don't freaking know, you stupid brat!" Ragnarok screeched, pounding his little fist on Crona's head. Odd. Crona had forgotten that Ragnarok was still there and wasn't hiding again. Maybe it was this thought that caused the weapon to stutter in pure rage, "Wha-How-Ya- ARGH!"

* * *

_**Freedom or Croak cafe. I'm not giving you the time cuz Benji said I need to stop talking in third person cuz it's confusing.**_

* * *

"And just a little pinch of this...And done!" Eruka grinned at her creation, sitting it carefully on the counter. It was a bunch of caramel candies on a cardboard plate, made from only the sugar in that glass jar on the counter, a pinch of magic, and a secret ingredient!

Free was somewhere, hiding with his magazine. He was supposed to give away these samples to people passing by outside. Sure, they weren't about to open soon and it was raining, so people would probably be too busy to take a sample, but when did advertising hurt anybody?

"Free! They're done! *Ribbit*" she shouted, deciding to move the candies a little to the left as she heard Free's loud footsteps stomp down the stairs in a hurry.

"Coming!" he shouted, running down the stairs. Being amazing, he narrowly jumped over the lawn chair that was propped against the staircase's doorway and he tumbled onto the single table they owned, knocking both himself and the table over. "Ergh!"

"Gah! *Ribbit* Is the table okay?!" she rushed over to him, but instead of helping Free up, she picked up the table and set it back up, dusting the piece of furniture off with her hand.

"Oh, sure! It's fine, but what about me?!" Free fumed as rolled over off of his back so he was laying on his stomach. A deep growl vibrated in the back of his throat as he stood up and shook himself off. Like the dog he was.

"Well, I figure you'd be okay. *Ribbit* I mean, you're immortal and everything." Eruka mused to herself as she made her way to the counter again and picked up the candies to give to Free.

"W-Well! It'd sure be nice if someone would ask once in a while!" Free snatched the platter and made his way to the door leading outside.

Just as he placed his hand on the door, Eruka asked, "Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You wanted me to ask. *Ribbit* So are you?"

"Uh...yeah. Thanks." a small smile fluttered onto his mouth as Free closed the door behind him.

Eruka hummed to herself as she wiped off the counter and thought now that the loud noise (aka Free) was gone for the moment. But now that it was quiet, she could think. Think things like how many bills they'd get, and how they needed to stay under Death City's radar to keep this cafe, and that Free looked like he was blushing as he had left to go outside. Wait, no. Free didn't blush. He was Mr. Immortal. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her.

Or maybe?...No, this was Free. Eruka would have to be insane to think anything like that. Maybe a he had a fever then? She would have to check later. But did she want Free to blush when he looked at her? The idea made her feel giddy and high-maybe she did. Not that it mattered.

She stopped wiping the counter, which was now glistening from the amount of cleaner she had used. She pulled out some more papers that came from the bank when they bought the shop and began reading the top packet of papers. She only had a few more papers to fill out and they'd have their loan from the bank and a glossy store catalog to purchase new tables and maybe real food!

"Hey!" a muffled voice shouted outside. The north wall of the room was covered in windows, but people were standing around outside, blocking her view. She ignored it, hoping that Free hadn't anything to do with it. He had been out there for maybe three minutes-even he couldn't get in a fight that fast, right?

"Hey yourself!" Now, that voice sounded too familiar. She sighed to herself as she tried to concentrate on reading. Maybe it wouldn't become a full-fledged fight.

"ARGH!" someone screamed, and people were cheering about something. Oh well. Maybe she'd have better luck the next time she sent him out to give people samples? Hastily, she ducked behind the counter as she heard the knob of the door twist.

"ERUKA!" Free yelled as he slammed the door and locked it. He growled darkly, barring his teeth angrily as he stomped over to her.

"*Ribbit* Y-Yes?" she slowly rose up from her hiding place and grinned nervously.

"What do you call these?!" he demanded as he angrily shoved the candies in Eruka's face.

"C-Caramel candies. Why? *Ribbit*" she asked curiously. Had the candies been so good that the customers started fighting with Free for them? No, there was still some left on the plate. In fact, only one had been taken away.

"Caramel candies, my hairy butt! Hah!" Free laughed angrily. Then what he said seem to hit him, and he took a step back before retorting back at her confused expression, "What? I stand by my statement! But what do you call these?!"

Eruka huffed irritatedly at how he slammed the cardboard plate on the counter. He ripped one of the candies open, and shoved the two halves in her hands. What? He was acting like these candies _weren't_ delicious! "*Ribbit* I told you! They're caramel candies!"

"Yeah right! There's freaking flies in these things!" Free growled as he tossed the remaining candies into the trash can.

"W-What?" Eruka stuttered. The fight outside was about something as silly as flies?

"There's _flies_ in those nasty things you call candy!"

"Oh!" Eruka suddenly grinned. "That's how they're supposed to be! *Ribbit* The flies are not only delicious, but add protein! They're my secret ingredient!"

Free stood there for a couple of minutes before hesitantly asking, "You mean...you meant to put flies in the candy?"

"Yep!" Eruka smiled, clapping her hands together like she had done the world a favor by making bug candy.

"Disgusting...just disgusting"

* * *

**And the end. So tired...Just let me quit this freaking story!**

**Fat dude: Nope. You can't do that.**

**Me: Okay, I'm naming you Steve.**

**Steve: Like the voice in your head that you named Steve?**

**Me: Yeah. Wait, how'd you know that?**

**Steve: I'm the personified version of that very same Steve.**

**Me: The voice inside my head is a fat man?**

**Steve: As opposed to the horny teenaged boy that is desperately trying to make it to college to escape his parents but can't get a date also known as the rest of you?**

**Me: I can get a date. I just chose not to.**

**Steve: Uh huh.**

**Me: Okay, I'm just going to leave the readers to hit the review button now...**

**Steve: Okay, Benji, you do that.**

**Me: Don't call me that!**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	6. Books and Souls!

**Chapter six! Half way done! But chapter ten's gonna be the end of me since I'm pretty sure that the really long chapter. Oh well.**

**I put a lot of effort in editing this chapter for some reason. I dunno. It took me twice as long to rewrite, so enjoy?**

* * *

**I own nothing, not even a Mercedes-Benz. But if I did, it would be epic. Like the world's greatest inside joke ever. I'll buy one if I ever get the money after college. Soooooo, in a long LONG time, I might have one. But til then, I don't own anything.**

* * *

_**I'm not giving you the time since Stein says it in the first paragraph and I'm feeling lazy. But Benji's right. If he owned a Mercedes-Benz, it would be an epic inside joke.**_

* * *

"Crona, you need to just deal with it," Professor Stein scoffed, leaning back into his chair. "Today makes it exactly one week since we've started these lessons. Think of it this way: you only have three more weeks left if everything goes well. I don't know what happened when you gave Sid that letter, but just _deal with it_."

"B-but, Sir..." Crona stared down at his lap, preferring the view of his black velvet gown over having to look the professor in the eye. His voice was soft and meek as it echoed back off of the stone walls. "I c-can't d-deal with it."

The professor sighed, bending down to the large black duffel bag he had snatched from Marie's room when she wasn't looking. The air became thin and tense as Crona fiddled with his hands. What was Professor Stein looking for? Those bird-killing weights again? He was tired of lifting those evil things, and what good could come from exercise anyway? He swallowed thickly at the size of the professor's bag- what could he have brought in that bag? It looked like a person could in there-wait! Did the professor bring the scary blue man in that bag?!

"Here" Professor Stein dropped a large dusty book onto the table with an expectant expression hiding behind his glasses. As Crona stared at the book awkwardly, he rolled his eyes, "Just read it, alright?"

Read the book? Was it another book full of those confusing phases the students us? Crona timidly pulled the book across the table toward himself, his brow creasing in confusion as how dirty the book was. He wiped a single stroke of dust off of the book before opening it to a random page. The scent of a familiar herb wafted from the pages that reminded him of noodles and pasta- oregano? Maybe he was imaging the smell. He had to be, all the rooms under the DWMA reeked of mildew and rot.

His eyes narrowed at the page of the book, and his hand went to turn the page. Crona scowled, a rare expression on his face which looked out of place on his delicate features. Cautiously, he glanced back up at the professor, who was still watching him dully, bit the inside of his lip nervously before stammering, "Umm... P-P-Professor Stein, S-Sir?"

"Yes?"

How should he put this? Why was talking to people so hard for him? This was Professor Stein, some one he's been forced to see every day, so why was it still so hard to talk to this man? Crona swallowed again, "I can't read this."

"Why not?"

"W-Well..." he scratched the back of his neck worriedly. "It's not written in English, S-Sir."

He pointed to the scented page, revealing that it was covered in foreign symbols of a strange language and rubbed the paper gingerly. The professor scoffed, turning the screw in his head slowly and pulled out another book from Marie's bag titled _Advanced Soul Theory Vol. 7_. He voice was sullen and unwelcoming, "So... You can't read it then?"

"Erm... N-No, Sir."

"Does the book at least look familiar?" Professor Stein asked quietly, turning to a page inside his book.

"No, S-Sir. Should it?" he responded curiously as the professor place his new book on top of the old dusty one, which _was_ written in English.

"Well, that depends, I guess." Professor Stein drawled slowly, leaning back into his chair, "I just figured you might know what it said. None of the faculty could translate it after we retrieved it."

"Oh. Then w-what made you think I m-might have been a-able to read it?"

"It was really nothing, in retrospect. I had to ask Lord Death, but he said I could leave the book in your room in case you could figure out what it says."

Crona scowled, his voice rougher and louder, "But why would I want a book I can't read?"

"Well... It was recovered from your mother's hideout, Crona." Professor Stein repied bluntly, a smug smile twisting itself onto his mouth at how Crona actually _raised his voice_. Yes, now he was a stuttering mess as he gaped at the dusty book, but nevertheless, it was an improvement of sorts. Slyly, he propped his feet on the table and motioned to the newer book he had placed on top of that dirty assortment of crinkled pages from the witch's hideout, "Now. Read this."

"O-O-O-Okay, S-S-Sir."

* * *

_**Freedom or Croak cafe. Noon. Happy? Good, cuz I'm not.**_

* * *

"Hit me with another." Free grunted, laying his head down on the wooden counter top. He scrunched his shoulders-the French waiter's uniform was made of a cheap material that made him itch and the outfit hugged him too tightly. Sluggishly, he looked around the cafe again-it was their first day open and not a single person had come in. Eruka's stupid bug candy probably scared off any of the customers that were even thinking about trying their place out.

Which wouldn't annoy him so much, except he had put in a lot of work with Eruka the past couple of days putting furniture in and cleaning everything. It looked nice. He had painted the walls a dusty gray and sanded the floor while Eruka was talking to some people to get contracts for running water, electricity, a land line phone, internet access, and a food vendor's license. Then he used a weird oil that Eruka had given to him to 'stain' the wood floor while she brought some slightly used bar stools from another bar down the street. He even put in a sink into the counter so they could wash dirty dishes without having to go all the way upstairs!

He was left in charge of wiring the phone at the counter while she went off further into the city to get tables, food, and their uniforms. So now that he was looking at the cafe, he was proud of their hard work. From the little tables and booth seats, to the funky assortment of food on display on the counter. Behind the counter, there was now a tall shelf made of cement blocks which they were using to store glass jars, a coffee pot, their eating utensils, and an empty picture frame.

The counter was shiny from various cleaners, and the bar stools were neatly arranged. A large clunky cash register sat in front of where Free was sitting at. Next to that was a tip jar and three glass platters for samples. For the customers. That they didn't have.

The walls, although still empty since they didn't have money for decorations, were lined with booth seats and the floor was filled with tables, which were surrounded by _nicer_ lawn chairs that if he didn't know better, he would have never guess that those chair were even lawn chairs.

The door was oiled; the windows were washed. They used a funny wax to make a sign of the cafe's name on the window. But yet they didn't have any customers. Go figure.

"*Ribbit* Look, it'll get better... You just wait and watch! Before we even know it, we'll have customers filled at every table!" Eruka chirped weakly, sitting down another coffee beside Free while she sipped her own cup of coffee. Her uniform made her squirm, and the skirt felt too short, the French maid design of the outfit was something she was proud to wear. Although, she wished she could wear her hat-it was weird to not have something sitting on top of her head.

Free sighed, not moving to grab his coffee as he watched people pass by the cafe through the window. She frowned, adding a few flies to her coffee from a salt shaker hidden underneath the counter.

"Hey, you- we need to stop this," she huffed, setting down her coffee. "*Ribbit* Just sitting here won't help anything!"

He gazed over to the witch and raised a brow, "And just what should we do? 'Cuz sitting here sounds pretty good to me."

Eruka's frown deepened as her hand went under the counter, snatching a cardboard box that she had gotten to carry the glass jars into the cafe. She slammed the box on to the counter and took some spare twine and a steak knife from the cement shelving behind her. She sliced off the top of the box and poked holes in the sides of it before sewing the twine into the holes so the box looked like a strange necklace. Then she stepped back and smiled at her handiwork, placing the box over Free's head so it hung limply over his chest, "Voila! *Ribbit* A _free_ sample box!" **(Oi! Another pun?!)**

"Err...Come again?" Free squinted at her, sitting up straight as he began to take off his new necklace.

"Don't!" Eruka slapped his hand away from the twine holding the box together. "I'm going to make some coffee and snacks for you to *Ribbit* put in there and give out to the people outside!"

"Oh," Free watched as Eruka walked over to the coffee machine and pulled over some mini paper cups. "Why don't we just use another platter?"

"*Ribbit* Because you broke the platter the other day when you got all mad." Eruka laughed under her breathe as she started up the machine, pressing random buttons. While it still annoyed her, Free was clumsy, so it was better for her to just laugh about it rather than stay mad. "And you'll probably slip and spill everything, too. *Ribbit* The box will make it all a bit safer to be around you."

"Hey! I find that offensive! When do I ever do stupid things like that?! I bet you can't name one time I did!" Free challenged indignantly as he leaned back on his stool too hastily, causing the stool to flip over backwards with him toppling on to the floor. "Argh!"

"Hm?" she leaned on the counter to see him sprawled on the floor, his leg twisted painfully into the legs of the stool. A girlish grin fluttered onto her lips, "One incident? *Ribbit* I could name hundreds, Free!"

"This doesn't count!" Free mumbled as he picked himself and the stupid stool off the floor, the box still hanging around his neck. Eruka began to put the finished cups of coffee on the counter, so he went behind the counter to meet her.

"Okay, I guess..." Eruka started sarcastically, pulling him close so she could put the coffee in the box.

"U-Umm...Y-You feelin' alright?" Free flushed, not that Eruka noticed. Actually she also didn't notice the lack of distance between them at all as she loaded drinks and snacks into the box.

"Of course! *Ribbit* Why?" Eruka looked up at him, finally realizing how _close_ they were. She grinned awkwardly at how rosy his cheeks were, sweat dribbling down the back of her neck as she shoved Free toward the door which effectively created distance between them. "Heh! *Ribbit* Just go and... um... hand out those treats!"

"Oh! A-Alright!" Free smiled nervously as he basically ran out the door, leaving Eruka to sit there, confused.

She should really get to checking his temperature. She could see him outside through the window, shouting and dancing around the crowd for people to take samples. Not that any of them stopped. No, they keep walking past him and just stared at him as if he were mad.

Maybe it was allergies? Free seemed nervous, but that couldn't be right. Free had looked Medusa straight in the eye without a moment's hesitation, so why would he lose his confidence now? As she heard the door open, she groaned without bothering to look up, "Free, you need to keep trying! *Ribbit* People aren't going just to walk up to you ask for samples!"

"Well..." a slow, graveling voice hummed as she looked under the counter for that cleaner she used to wipe the counter with. "I was hoping to buy some of what that er... excitable man outside was giving out."

"Oh!" Eruka stood up from behind the counter quickly and hit her head on the edge on her way up. She blushed as she rubbed the back of her head nervously, "I'm sorry, sir! I'll get you one right away! *Ribbit*"

The customer was a short, elderly Japanese man. He had a fedora on top of his gray head and the hint of a mustache hanging over his lip. He pulled his black blazer closer to his body as he smiled, "That would be fine, miss. How much will it cost?"

Eruka sweat-dropped and looked through the menu she had made earlier that week before running back to the machine to start on the man's coffee, "Um... Just two dollars and fifty cents, sir."

The man pulled out the money and sat it as Eruka finished making the drink. He grinned kindly at her and took it gratefully.

"Thank you, sir! *Ribbit*" she laughed nervously as she started to count the money on the counter as the man started to make his way to the door. Then as she counted, her stomach dropped as she shouted, "Oh! Sir, this is too much! Um... Here! I'll get your change!"

The man laughed at the girl's antics before replying, "Oh, it's alright, miss. You can keep the change. Oh, by the way, my name is Tom."

"Oookay," she rubbed the back of her head. "Thank you, sir- er- Tom. Please come again! *Ribbit*"

"I'll make sure to. Thank you for the coffee, miss." Tom smiled as he went out the door and down the street.

Was business looking up? It was their first day open, and that was their first customer, so it had to be, right? Maybe this childish idea of hers would actually work out!

Wait! She grimaced, glancing out the window to see Free get slapped by an old lady. As he shook it off, he went back to running around with his box of samples.

Yes, she really needed to check his temperature.

* * *

**Puns, puns, puns! They're everywhere! I don't even mark all of them, but that's cuz I don't actually try to create them. They're just there by accident and I'll read them thinking, "Hey, that's vaguely funny!" and I'll just leave 'em there.**

**Steve: And poop jokes are hilarious?**

**Me: They are. Stool is a word for poop, so I had a really hard time keeping a straight face while writing the second scene in this chapter.**

**Steve: Only two scenes in this chapter? Lazy much, Benji?**

**Me: Maybe I was tired when I first wrote the chapter. I'm just editing right now. Not making the story something else entirely. That'd be too much work and mess up the plot line. I'm sticking with this one.**

**Steve: For now.**

**Me: Yes. For now.**

**Steve: I like Tom.**

**Me: Gay much?**

**Steve: NO, I like his character. You're the gay one.**

**Me: Hey, it's June. I can be proud to gay for a whole month. Then I go back to hiding for the rest of the year. And I like Tom too. He's such a nice guy.**

**Steve: Yeah, he's nicer than you. Wait, that doesn't take much to do.**

**Me: I'll go find a corn dog if I have to.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	7. Stealing Pizza is wrong!

**Hmm...Chapter seven. Whoopie. How many more days of nonstop editing? I get about two chapters done a day if I'm lucky, so two more days if I get chapter eight done now, and I'm not interrupted? Yep.**

**Uh...notes on the chapter...I'm brain-dead. Yep. Like a zombie. So a zombie is writing a fanfic. Great. Not weird at all. What else? Oh, lots of cursing than the other previous chapters. Okay, really it's just one word that gets repeated, but still. Ragnarok's a jerk, and Stein is an adult with adult language. Rated T.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. No jokes, no punchlines with this disclaimer. I just said I'm brain-dead. Deal with it.**

* * *

_**I don't know why Benji put a warning in the author's note. He just used the same language used in the manga and anime, and this fanfiction is rated T like those things, so ya know... Time? I forget.**_

* * *

"Crona. Now." Stein commanded dryly, folding his arms together over his chest. He waited outside the door, listening for a response. "Crona, you come out, or so help me-"

He shook his head softly, strolling down the hall. Maybe Crona would be cooperate more later. Maybe she was busy reading that book he had given her a couple of days ago. Still, standing there wasn't getting her out for her lessons, so it was best he just he went outside for a breath of fresh air. Maybe even a smoke if he had the time.

Speaking of lessons, his classes at the DWMA were now back on schedule. The academy was fully back on track and the students were attending all of their classes every day again. But yet when the Stein was done teaching noisy blue-haired monkeys, he had to teach Crona, who's lessons were now much later and shorter so he wouldn't seem as suspicious to the students. Then he had the pleasure of grading papers, writing tests, and planning dissections once he got home while Marie complained about cooking their dinner with beakers and Bunsen burners. It was nearly one in the morning before he got to go to sleep.

As he climbed up the staircase that led up to the ground level, he sighed. At least the students would be gone now since it was so late-all of them would eating dinner by now. Unlike himself, who might get to eat in about six hours.

One day Crona was fine, showing improvement. Like that day she ate the noodles, showing she _did_ have a will and a spine to stand up to her aggressive weapon. Or how two days ago she raised her voice, finally showing a temper and arguing back rather than simply taking the heat from someone. But then she'd tumble back, reverting to her timid, fearful self while she hid in that damned corner. It made him wonder if these lessons were even worth anything-no matter how much time he gave her, would it make any difference?

As he walked down the halls, he rolled his eyes at how messy everything was. The janitors were either late or being lazy. His shoes clicked on the tiles, each step getting closer to the balcony that overlooked the east side of the academy. Maybe he should get Marie to talk to Crona. Crona seemed more at ease with her, so surely Marie wouldn't mind talking to the girl-boy? Stein frowned as he entered the balcony, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. What was Crona's gender? He had forgotten to ask Sid for the medical files. He'd have to remember to check some time.

He lit a cigarette, staring off a one of the spires on the other side of the academy. There was a short boy standing on it, although it wasn't stable since the spire hung in the air. In the distance, Stein could hear the shouts of godliness and supremacy as the boy jumped on the spire. The spire broke underneath the boy's feet as he landed and he fell to the ground.

Then he puffed out the smoke from the cigarette, hearing the angry wail of another person, followed by two gun shots. He shook his head as he recognized the three white stripes on the side of the person's head. Death the Kid. He was screaming and whining about how the academy was asymmetrical again.

"Um...Professor Stein?" a gruff voice with a thick southern accent coughed.

"Hm?" Stein glanced behind his shoulder, catching a glimpse of one of his students.

"What'da ya doin' out here?" the boy cautiously stepped onto the balcony, running a hand through his greasy black hair.

"I could ask the same of you, Devon." he turned back to his view of the city, extinguishing his cigarette. "May I ask why you're here so late?"

Devon tugged on his emerald tie, loosing its grip around his neck, "I was wonderin' if ya could help meh with today's lesson."

"And you knew I would be here?" Stein smirked before turning the screw on his head, looking at the more or less empty streets of Death City.

"Err... Well, no, siree. Guess not. I was just walkin' about to find ya, though." Devon mumbled, walking over to stand beside Stein. "But do ya think ya could answer this question I have?"

"I'll try my best, Devon." he nodded, turning to see the boy more clearly. "So, then. What is your question?"

"Well," he fiddled with his tie. "How come some souls are able to change and other ain't able to?"

"Well-" Stein began, but got cut off by Devon, who apparently wasn't does asking his question.

"'Cause I think there ain't any souls that are able to change. The body might be able to heal, but mind ain't able to, right? And to have a healthy soul, the body and mind both hafta be healthy, right?" Devon asked, gazing at the sun, which was fighting its hardest to not fall asleep, his dull brown eyes brooding over the matter.

"Well, that's true, Devon. But any soul can change, it just takes a lot of time and work from the person wanting to change. It doesn't just happen overnight." Stein answered and looked over at the sun himself. "The body needs to get stronger and the mind and the mind as well in order to house a stronger soul."

"But what their body is damaged too much? And I always thought the mind couldn't really heal. That's what all those science books say, anyways. That you only get so many brain cells and once they're gone...well...that's it." Devon scratched his head, obviously confused by today's lesson.

"Well, no one's soul is truly healthy, Devon. Everyone is tainted, even if it's only a little bit. The human body can do some pretty amazing things sometimes. And the mind...well...it's a bit trickier." Stein rubbed his chin before dropping his cigarette to the ground. The janitors would get to it eventually. "The mind works in cycles. It's what really keeps us from changing because it prefers the way it is. Humans are stubborn like that. In order for a soul to change, you need to break that cycle."

"If it's that easy, then why do people act like changin' is so hard?" Devon asked curiously as he watched the last bit of smoke escape Stein's cigarette.

"That's the thing, Devon. It's not easy. Not one bit. Some people can't change simply because they find it too hard. Those people don't have the willpower to keep working hard at changing who they are. And others can't because...well...they're either dead or mad." Stein replied briskly. This conversation was bringing his problem about Crona to mind. In fact, it seems a lot like his problem.

Crona was hiding in that damned corner, right after showing improvement. It was like a cycle with her as well! He was pushing Crona to go quickly through the cycle, but she only ended back up where they started since the cycle needed to be broken!

"Thank you, Dev-" Stein turned to thank Devon, but realized that the boy had left already and was strutting down the halls. He smiled, his hand itching toward his pack of cigarettes. He'd just go home and talk this over with Marie while Crona had time to herself. Maybe he'd even get to go to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight.

* * *

_**Back to Crona! In his little room! Yay!**_

* * *

That book was staring at him again. Crona swallowed from his spot in Mr. Corner's comforting arms, nervously staring at the thick, dusty book sitting on the nightstand beside his bed. Now that the professor was done trying to get him to leave Mr. Corner, he was able to listen to the unusual sounds of the DWMA dungeon.

"_Really? Did it grow eyes?"_ Ragnarok sneered from the deep recesses in Crona's mind.

He whimpered into Mr. Pillow. No, the book didn't actually have eyes, but it was staring at him. He just knew it.

"_No, it ain't! It doesn't have a backbone and guts, much like you, so it's can't be staring at ya._ _Sheesh, you're such a big baby."_ Ragnarok grunted, surfacing onto Crona's back to breath the moist, stuffy air.

Crona simply pushed his head a bit further into Mr. Pillow, wanting to seek the magical comfort of his feather-filled protector. "Yes, it is, Rag-"

"No, it's not, dammit!" Ragnarok yelled, yanking on Crona's head enough to he could pull on his meister's ear sharply. "Don't ya hear me?! It is not staring at you, dammit! Just because it's from _her_ doesn't mean she's here watching us! Get over yourself!"

"Ow...Ragnarok, dat wheely hurts." Crona buried his head back into Mr. Pillow, his voice muffled. His hands clutched the pillow tightly, but he made no attempt to stop the demon.

"Oh, boo hoo! Man up, already! I want you to go over to that book and kick it!" the demon growled, shoving Crona's head.

"Uh...What?" he frowned, staring up at Ragnarok. "Kick it? Why?"

"Because I said so! Stop asking questions and just do it!" Ragnarok huffed, whacking the back of his meister's head before disappearing again.

He exhaled slowly, rising up out of Mr. Corner. Ragnarok was so weird sometimes. Still, he moved cautiously toward his bed, placing Mr. Pillow on top of his blanket and picked up the book with shaking hands. Moving his foot backwards, he leaned the book in front of him as he set it up for the kick.

Kicking a book was stupid, but so was ignoring Ragnarok.

He moved his foot forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. But his foot stop half-way to its target and went back down as Crona brought the book closer to his body. There was a single page sticking out of the book, like someone had shut the book in a hurry and it was folded incorrectly.

Flipping the book open, the smell of oregano filled the room as dust scattered away from the book as he turned to the folded page. Carefully fixing the crease in the paper, he turned his attention to the foreign language as Ragnarok protested and insulted.

The language was Witch.

"_No! Really?! Never would have guessed!" _Ragnarok sneered as Crona silently mulled over the symbols in his head.

He had seen all of this somewhere before, and he felt so close to knowing what the writing said, like it was all on the tip of his tongue. Even the diagrams on the page looked familiar once he thought about it.

"_No duh, Stupid! She wrote everything in that damn language, ya nitwit!"_

Crona rolled his eyes, he _knew_ that she wrote everything in this language. But she never taught _him_ how to read it, saying it would either come naturally to him or not at all. He rubbed the back of his neck, he knew this, didn't he? He knew what these symbol meant, but at the same time he didn't.

"_Oh, okay. Because that's makes SO much sense! Thanks for explaining that to me!"_

Shut up. The thought was cranky and annoyed, but he needed to focus on the writing.

"_H-Hey! You don't tell me to-"_

Shut up! Why didn't Ragnarok get that he needed _quiet_ right now?! Crona scowled, glaring at the paper. What did those symbols mean? Why didn't he _know_?! Finally, he shouted in anguish, shattering the silence, "Why didn't she ever write in English?!"

"_H-Hey, calm down. If you don't figure it out today, it's okay. There's no rush.'"_Ragnarok's voice murmured, a calming tone that Crona rarely heard. Then there was nothing as the demon hid away to the darker corners of his meister's mind to take a peaceful nap.

Crona fell on to his bed with a thud, laying down as he slammed the book shut. He hugged it in his arms as his head rested on Mr. Pillow, but he didn't bother trying to pull his blanket over himself. He wasn't tired. Not yet. He wanted to know what this book said. He needed to know what it said. But why? He didn't know, and that was exactly it. He was holding something that might be important, something that she forgot to tell him, or she didn't _want_ him to know, but he couldn't read it.

Why couldn't he read it?

* * *

**I like writing in Crona's POV, honestly. I do. Mainly cuz Ragnarok is there and he's able to comment snarky lines all the time.**

**Steve: You're the snarky one.**

**Me: Duh.**

**Steve: You know, you should be doing that summer homework right now.**

**Me: Yes, I should. But I'm not going to right now. My teacher can wait. He's the one who assigned me to read four chapters of a textbook during the summer, so he can wait a freaking week or so.**

**Steve: You're just procrastinating, Benji.**

**Me: I am. But for the readers. Although now I'm worried that when I post this, no one's going to read it and I've just wasted my time.**

**Steve: Isn't writing fanfics a waste of time in general?**

**Me: NO, IT'S NOT. It improves writing abilities for the authors and allows the readers to indulge themselves.**

**Steve: You always say you're not an author.**

**Me: I'm not. I suck. Like a muk.**

**Steve: So you're wasting your time?**

**Me: Probably. I mean, who's actually going to like my garbage called "writing?"**

**Steve: Okay, I'm going to go find a corn dog now.**

**Me: Have fun with tha-wait. WAIT. That's my line, and OH CRUD! *sees Steve with corn dog covered in mustard* That's disgusting! You know I hate mustard!**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	8. Little Boys and Lemonade

**Finally! I was starting to wonder when I'd get to Maka and Soul. Chapter eight. Go figure that Kid was mentioned last chapter, but not at all in this one.**

**Okay, I forgot to mention I guess, but if Crona is ever mentioned with female pronouns, it cuz the scene is from Stein's point of view. If you were wondering. I think everyone else uses male pronouns, but I know Stein doesn't. Don't worry. He'll get fixed of this habit. In a bit. It'll be a new chapter. That I haven't written yet cuz I'M STILL EDITING. ARGH.**

**Rated T for a bad word (the one used last chapter) by a white haired weapon.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: (noun) means denial of ownership of a large brand of product from ideas of any sort that have been published or copyrighted. AKA: This means I. Own. Nothing.**

* * *

_**Yay! Student dormitories. Time: Next day. You know, I'm not getting paid enough to be the voice in Benji's head. Seriously. Have you actually met the dude? Exactly.**_

* * *

"Stop being lazy and just clean it up!" a loud, angry voice growled inside of a tiny apartment in the DWMA's uptown dormitories.

"Why do I have to do it now?! This is my favorite show! Just give me 15 more minutes, bookworm!" another voice retorted.

From outside the apartment, one could only hear silence for a few moments, so it would be only natural for one to assume that the other voice had cleaned up what ever needed to be cleaned up. But of course, if one assumed that, then they didn't know the people in that apartment.

"W-Wait! I'll clean it up, 'kay?! There's no need to do anything hasty!" the second voice quivered.

"MAKA..." the first voice grunted, her voice thundering throughout the building.

"...Oh crud." the second voice squeaked.

"CHOP!" Maka slammed a thick dictionary onto her weapon's skull and smiled at her handiwork. Soul groaned on the floor as his fingers edged toward the book, tossing it across the room.

"Dammit, Maka! Where the heck did you _that_ from?!" he ranted, sitting up as his head pulsed in agony.

"Just clean up the soda you spilled, Soul," Maka commanded, turning the television off with the remote control. She turned on her heel, heading off into the kitchen and snatched random ingredients before a thought struck her as she started to put a piece of lettuce in a bowl. She had no idea what she was trying to cook. Shaking her head, she gazed over to her weapon, who had finally finished cleaning his mess and was back to watching his television show, and frowned, "Hey, Soul! What do you feel like eating for dinner?"

"Pizza" he replied, not bothering to turn away from his show to look at her.

Maka huffed, annoyance glittering in her eyes, "Really? Because I bought a bunch of groceries last night-"

"And that's my fault? Like I said, I want pizza." Soul snickered, turning up the volume with the remote she could've sworn she had left on the counter.

"Fine," Maka relented, flipping open a phone book as she reached for their land line phone. "What toppings do you want on your half?"

"It's already ordered," Soul mumbled, waving his cell phone in the air, the mobile site for the local pizzeria displaying its screen. "You like pepperoni, right?"

"Sure," she rolled her eyes as she put the lettuce back into the refridgerator. "Hey, could you turn that down? I can barely hear myself think."

"What?! I can't hear you! Turn it up higher?!" he shouted with a laugh, snatching the remote lying beside him as he turned down the volume. He didn't want another book thrown at him tonight.

She closed the refrigerator and went over to him, sitting stiffly on the couch beside him with the remote between them. A confused frown twitched on her face as she asked, "What are you watching anyway? Aren't you a bit too old for cartoons?"

Soul groaned, pointing at the screen, "This- This, what you seem to think is _cartoons_, is anime! Not cartoons! There is a _clear_ difference between them!"

No, it was all cartoons to her. And it looked stupid. The television show was about some kids stuck in a video game or something, she couldn't really tell. She rolled her eyes, "And you call me a geek."

"No, I don't call you a _geek_. I should, but I don't. I call you a-" he began, but was interrupted by the door bell, which probably saved him from making his own death wish.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," Maka mumbled under her breathe as she stood up, knowing that Soul wouldn't move from his spot.

Opening the door, she handed to some money to a short pizza delivery boy with their dinner, "Here you go, sir."

"Sweet! Of course, being the god I am, I'm used to receiving offerings from my subjects!" the pizza boy snatched the cash out of Maka's hand and shoved it into his pocket.

"W-What?! Black*Star?!" Maka fumed, realizing that Black*Star was grinning ear to ear with their pizza-and money-but wasn't wearing the pizzeria's usual uniform for their delivery workers. "You got a job delivering pizza?!"

"What? No, there was some delivery chick in the lobby that asked me to take this pizza to you guys' place. She didn't charge or anything, she just handed it to me and said something about how she was going to quit," Black*Star shrugged, still holding their pizza, before shoving his way into the apartment to sit beside Soul, who was still focused on his show. "Awesome! You're watching S-A-O?!"

"Yes, and of course she didn't charge. I paid online with my debit card, so give back our money, dude!" Soul frowned, turning away from his show, which had an unusual title since it only had three letters. Or maybe it was an abbreviation? Maka didn't know-it was all just a stupid cartoon. Soul poked Black*Star in the side with his elbow, "And shouldn't you be with Tsubaki?"

Black*Star pulled out the money Maka had given him, setting it on the coffee table in front of the television. He flipped open the pizza box and proceeded to eat a slice of it as he propped his feet on the table, "Fine, take your dumb money. Someone as awesome as I am doesn't need material possessions."

"Really? That pizza seems like a _material possession_ to me," she griped, taking the box of pizza away from Black*Star and put it on the kitchen counter. Grabbing some plates from the cabinet, she put some pizza on two different plates for hers and Soul's dinner. She left the rest of the pizza on the counter in case they wanted more and gave Soul his place while she put her own on the table so she could count the money. "Hey! I gave you twenty, this is only fifteen!" she glared at Black*Star, who's hand was innocently creeping toward her plate of pizza.

"Eh? I need it! I have to buy some stuff later, okay?" Black*Star leaned forward, his hand creeping slowly toward her plate of pizza until she picked it up again. He scowled, slouching back on to the couch with a huff, "Like five dollars is going to kill you!"

"What if I want to buy a five dollar foot long from Subway later? But I won't have the money to buy it because you have my five bucks!" Maka growled, sitting on the other side of Soul on the couch. "And, hey, Soul's right! Aren't you supposed to be with Tsubaki?"

"Oh, yeah. I should, shouldn't I?" Black*Star chuckled weakly, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to feign being absorbed in the cartoon playing on the television.

"Black*Star, what do you do this time?" Soul questioned hesitantly, raising a brow at him.

"Ya know that speech I made when we leaving the school since we were late from Sid's class running long? The one when the spike-ledge thing broke under me and Kid's freaked?" he shrugged, still pretending to watch the cartoon. Soul and Maka nodded in irritation-Black*Star had made plenty of speeches today since it was their first day of full classes, but that might have been his most embarrassing yet.

"Yeah..." Black*Star mumbled, dragging out the conversation as long as he could so he wouldn't have to go home. "Tsubaki's mad at me. She said I 'need to be more careful.' And that I'm 'not invincible.' So I came here!"

Maka shook her head at how Black*Star made extravagant air-quotes as he talked and Soul sweat-dropped. Soul frowned at his ignorance, "Speaking of school, you finish Professor Stein's assignment?"

Black*Star groaned, "No! I was hoping you did! I'm beginning to wish he was teaching dissections again! At least that way we didn't get homework!"

She leaned back, listening to them complain about the homework as she ate her pizza. Sighing, she pointed her pizza at them, "Why don't you just ask him for extra help instead of complaining about it?"

"We can't! He always leaves as soon as the bell rings! No one knows where he goes, but it's not his classroom _or_ his house!" Soul shot back, slamming his now empty plate on the coffee table.

"I tried to follow him one day," Black*Star proclaimed proudly over the sound of the cartoon, which caused Soul to turn up the volume again since it was in the middle of some fight scene. "I saw him go under the DWMA, and I was going to follow him down there, but Sid stopped me. He said that the basement was currently 'off limits for students.'"

"Strange," she commented, sliding her plate on the coffee table on top of Soul's before taking both to the kitchen to clean the dishes. "Which remind me, when do you think we'll get to see Crona again? I haven't seen him since the whole incident."

Soul scoffed, annoyed that people wouldn't shut up long enough for him to watch his cartoon, "I dunno. I haven't seen him. Why don't ask Lord Death or something?"

"I did, but he just avoided my question and told me to go home." she sighed. It was starting to really worry her. No one she knew at the DWMA had seen Crona since the incident. "I hope Lord Death didn't banish him or anything."

* * *

_**1300 hours in the underground classroom. You know which frigging underground classroom. Don't tell Benji, but I stole his pizza. I'm still hungry, so can you really blame me?**_

* * *

"Just pet her, Crona." Professor Stein exhaled, leaning back into his chair in their little classroom. An empty cage sat in front of him.

"B-But, Sir! It m-might bite me!" Crona was on his knees begging for mercy, metaphorically speaking of course. He was sitting as far back in his chair as he could without falling over, trying to get away from the black snake Professor Stein was holding, insisting that Crona should play with it like the insane man he was.

"Well, how do you know? If you don't take the chance she might bite you, you also don't take the chance of making friends with her." Professor Stein smiled softly as he stroked the snake's head.

"Are you mad?! Wait, no, don't answer that! You _are_ mad!" Ragnarok protested for his meister's cause, also subconsciously leaning away from the serpent.

"What's the point of t-this exercise, S-Sir? I d-don't see what p-petting a snake has to do with anything!" Crona gulped. The snake was as long as Professor Stein's arm, and was staring at Crona with its beady red eyes.

"Oh, just pet it, Crona. It's not going to bite. Probably." Professor Stein glance over at Crona, rubbing a soft spot right behind the snake's head. "Now, look. You're hurting the poor girl's feelings. All she wants is a friend. You know how hard it was for me to get her into the school?"

"Like I care about the freaking feelings of a _snake_! If he doesn't want to pet the darn thing, he doesn't have to!" Ragnarok yelled, flailing his arms around wildly. The demon wouldn't ever admit it, but snakes freaked him out nearly as much as Crona.

Professor Stein sighed and watched the black snake, "Well, Crona? I'll even let you name her."

Crona didn't say reply, opting to throw his arms in front of himself for protection. Where was Mr. Corner when he needed him the most?

"Alright, then." Professor Stein nodded, beginning to put the snake back into the cage.

"W-Wait!" Crona swallowed thickly, his voice cracking in fear. If he wanted to see Maka again, he had to be ready for anything, right?

"Hm?" the professor raised his brow in expectation as the snake slithered up his arm in an attempt to further itself away from the cage, "Yes, Crona?"

He shakily leaned his arm forward, his hand outstretched for the snake. He trembled as sweat dripped the back of his neck into the collar of his gown. He had to be ready for anything. For Maka. For all of his friends.

"W-What'ya think you're doing?!" Ragnarok shouted weakly, disappearing back into his meister. "Fine! Throw away your life if you want, but leave me outta it!"

The professor smirked, leaning his own arm toward Crona's as the snake moved around to find a comfortable spot, "Go ahead, Crona."

He reached a bit further to the snake, his hand nearly touching the snake's head as the unthinkable happened! The snaked moved away from Crona, and it hissed!

Crona jerked his hand back, whimpering in his chair, "N-N-Nice s-s-s-snake..."

"Now, shh..." Professor Stein told the snake soothingly as he stroked the snake's head.

His teeth chattered, and Crona fought to steady himself as he tried to find his courage. He moved his arm forward again, much quicker. His eyes squeezed shut, his hand tapped the snake's cold scales as Crona waited for the snake to bite his hand off. But nothing happened, and instead the animal bowed under his hand and leaned into his touch as it wiggled on the professor's arm.

"H-Hey!" Crona blinked, timidly rubbing the back of its head like Professor Stein had done a minute ago. The snake made a soft noise that sounded happier than an angry hiss, and Crona pressed his lips together, "It, er, s-she's kinda … um …. c-cute."

"Well, what do you want to name her?" Professor Stein chuckled mysteriously, watching Crona play with the snake on his arm. The snake relented, following Crona's index finger as he moved around like they were playing a game.

"I dunno," he hummed, tapping the snake on the top of its head.

"Well, think about it, okay?" the professor nodded, wrapping the snake around Crona's arm. At first the snake protested, trying to stay in its place on Professor Stein's arm until it got comfortable on Crona's right forearm and tightened itself so its head rested on the back of his hand.

"Oh! Um, I don't k-know if-" Crona swallowed nervously, his other hand brushing against the snake's body. "O-O-Okay."

"I don't think she's going to bite you, Crona." Professor Stein did his glasses-flashy thing and laughed, "Now, for today's lesson..."

* * *

**Four more chapters left to edit! Yes! Almost there! I'm so close! But...chapter ten... -.-"**

**Steve: Just suck it up, Benji.**

**Me: But Four! Like Divergent!**

**Steve: You're so gay.**

**Me: Shut the blueberry up. *Looks around* Where's my slice of pizza? I cooked some after writing about Maka and Soul eating some...**

**Steve: You don't cook! You had your dad microwave some leftover pizza that was delivered by that pizza place.**

**Me: Marco's Pizza?**

**Steve: Yeah, that place.**

**Me: I like their pizza. It yummy.**

**Steve: Whatever, Benji.**

**Me: Wait...don't call me that!**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	9. Fights, Books, and Snakes!

**Chapter nine! Whoo! Hm...Crona's not in this chapter? I guess not! *shrugs* Comic relief and a filler chapter! But Kid and Tsubaki are introduced in this chapter, so yea~!**

* * *

**Disclaimers are no fun. But I don't own Soul Eater. I do own Devon and Brandon. If you want them, you need to ask, alright? You can play with Devon-kun and Brandie all you want as long as you do that. And remember that you're just borrowing them, like a play date.**

* * *

_**Next day. Freedom or Croak cafe. Hm...that pizza I ate was yummy. Good ham.**_

* * *

"Can I have another refill, ma'am?" a small boy with tousled blonde hair asked, standing on his tip-toes to be able to see over the counter at Eruka and held up an empty lemonade cup.

"S-Sure! *Ribbit* Just one minute, please!" Eruka sweat-dropped, handing a middle-aged woman her change as she eyed Free taking the rush hour orders.

Free hopped over a wandering toddler as he stumbled over to the counter. He pointed to the towel hanging limply over the coffee pot with a wheeze, "Eurka! Hand me that towel! There's a spill at table three!"

She took the boy's cup set it on the counter, tossing Free the towel as she filled the cup with lemonade with the pitcher beside a sample platter of beignets. "Catch, Free! *Ribbit* And here you go, kid."

"Thanks!" Free grinned, wiping sweat from his face with the towel as the little boy waddled over to his mother with his cup of lemonade.

"Hey, Free?" she called as she tapped the buttons on the cash register.

"Hm?" he turned around, his fingers playing with the towel impatiently. "What?"

"Just..." she sighed, taking another customer's money. "*Ribbit* Be careful."

He rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to stumble through the crowd toward table three.

As she gave the next customer their change, she scowled at Free. If he kept running around like that, he'd get either hurt himself, a customer, or he'd break something. Maybe all of the above. Still, she turned to wipe down the coffee pot before another person tried to come-

"Busy?" a voice chuckled on the other side of the counter, a briefcase in his hand. Tom. He smiled in a friendly fashion as his hand brushed the counter.

"You could say that again, *Ribbit*" Eruka smiled back, her hands grabbing a spare cup and filling it with coffee for the older man. "And to think this place was a ghost town not too long ago."

"Hmm...I wonder how that could have happened..." Tom winked, wrinkles creasing around his eyes as he tipped his hat at her. "I'll just take my usual and by on my way. It's a busy day at the office too, you know."

She nodded, handing him the coffee and delicately picking up a blueberry muffin to give him, "Thank you, for telling people about our cafe, and for buying."

Tom handed her the money for his order, a pleasant shine in his voice, "Oh, it was nothing really. I come across so many people and you kids looked like you needed some help getting off the ground."

"Yeah, but now I think there's too many people!" she rubbed the back of her head and looked at everyone there. Nearly table had someone sitting at it! And it was thanks to the man in front of her, not caramel candies, or free samples, or exotic dancing from Free as he tried to get passerby's attention.

"Well, why not put out a job request if you're having so much trouble?" he questioned curiously, taking a bite out of his muffin.

She blinked, the thought hadn't occurred to her. It was a good idea-the cafe would a lot calmer with another worker or two, but she doubted Free would go for the idea since he was supposed to be able to handle everything, being immortal and all. Still, she could always ask! What was the worst he could do? Say no? She grinned at Tom, "We should-I'll make a note to remember that later! Thanks!"

"Well, it's always a pleasure to help you two out when I can," Tom laughed, sipping his coffee as the small blonde-haired boy walked stiffly up to the counter. The boy stretched, leaning so he could see over the counter.

"Uh...Ma'am?" he mumbled, his eyes darting around in embarrassment.

"Yes? *Ribbit* Do you want another refill?" she sighed, already getting the pitcher of lemonade ready for him.

"Um...N-No, Ma'am. Which way is the nearest bathroom?" he blushed, looking down at something.

"Hm? On the east wall next to that big table," she pointed over to where Free was furiously wiping down table three where two doors were at. Also know as their public bathrooms.

"O-Okay, thank you," he thanked her nervously, wading through the crowd toward the men's bathroom.

Tom's cell phone beeped from his pants pocket and he pulled it out. Opening it up, he glanced at his text message and smiled apologetically, "Well, I guess that's my cue to leave. Thank you for the coffee, miss."

"Oh, thank you, Tom! *Ribbit* Come again!" she called out, waving to him as he left. Now she was left to wonder about that boy. What was that all about? He was fine just a little- Oh. Oh dear.

She got her answer when she saw the boy turned around to closed the door to the bathroom. There was a wet spot on his crotch and his mother still held a full cup of lemonade, although the floor was covered in a liquid. Apparently, the poor boy had, well, peed himself from overdosing on lemonade.

Free growled to himself as he glanced around, checking to make sure all of the tables were clean. It wasn't that he minded cleaning or delivering food to the customer. Heck, it was better than having to take their orders at the counter like Eruka did. All he had to do was give them a plate and wash the table when they left.

What he did mind was that old man. Stupid, no-good Tom. Sure, he seemed nice. He seemed like a friendly gentleman just trying to help some people, but Free couldn't shake off this bad vibe he good whenever that old bugger was at the cafe.

From his experience, people that nice were never nice because it was simply in their nature. No, they were like that because they wanted something. Not that he was ever going to be able to tell Eruka that. She'd just get mad at him, trying to defend Tom. And what old man was named just Tom? Elderly folks always had really long names, like Edward, or Eleanor, or even Thomas, which would make sense for _Tom_.

"Free?" Eruka coughed, waving at him from the counter next to an older woman and her son. The boy ran his hand through his messy blonde hair, and looked down at his shoes. What was his name? Brandon, was it? See, Free _liked_ that kid. He and his mother came in every day, but Eruka didn't notice. She noticed Tom. Brandon was a good kid, and from his idle chatter he'd make with Free, he was starting at the academy as something called a 'N.O.T.' meister. Like Free knew what that meant.

"Yeah?" he clumped over, his arms filled with dirty dishes which he dropped into the sink beside Eruka. "What'da ya need?"

"*Ribbit* We should hire some extra help," she started. When Free gave her a confused look, she continued, "It's so busy here that having even _one_ more person here would be amazing! Think about it!"

Free slumped his shoulders, not really wanting to relent. He was doing fine, right? Did she think he wasn't good enough? He frowned, "I dunno. I think we're fine the way we are."

Eruka raised a brow, "Really? Because it looks to me that you're going to have a heart attack out there because you're working so hard."

Free bit his lip and sighed. Extra help _did_ sound pretty good, but paying some snotty person for something he could do for free? **(Oh the puns with Free...)** He sighed, "Well, let me think 'bout it, alright?"

He turned away, spotting a yellow puddle next to table nine. As he got closer to it, he got his towel ready. Lemonade? No matter, the sooner he cleaned up the mess, the sooner he could forget about it. The puddle was at Brandon's table, so it'd make sense that it would be lemonade since the kid was always drinking it.

As he neared the table, Free failed to notice a portly man push his chair up to stand. He narrowly dodged the man, but he tumbled over the chair. He landed with a loud crash as the chair skidded away. His face felt wet, and as he slowly opened his eyes, he realized he had fallen face-first into the puddle of lemonade.

Odd. The puddle didn't smell like lemonade. Out of pure curiosity, he stuck his tongue out and licked the puddle. At first, the taste didn't hit him until the horrid flavor smacked him hard across the face. He felt woozy. Whatever the puddle was, it was not lemonade.

He looked up and saw Eruka, greener than a frog witch should _ever_ be. She scrunched her nose, her face looking like she would puke at any moment.

"I'll call poison control...again." she frowned, pulling out her cell phone and pressed number two. Was it sad she had poison control on speed dial for his sake? Probably.

"Hello? Poison control? Yeah, we need your help... Yeah, fourth time time week, I know...Yes, I'm aware it's only Monday." Eruka sighed into the phone and looked down at Free. "Um... He licked something that he probably shouldn't have..."

* * *

_**Okay, ew. But meanwhile, outside the doors of the DWMA!**_

* * *

"I just don't think someone of my godly standards should have to do something like that!" Black*Star grumbled, standing right outside the school doors. Everyone was inside the cafeteria, so he was missing his opportunity to make his noon speech. It was bad enough Tsubaki was still mad at him, but now this?! He was a god, for crying out loud!

"Black*Star, Father said you have to pay the school back for the expenses you're causing!" Kid fumed. "This is the sixth thing you've broke _this week_ and it's Monday! What Father is asking of you isn't nearly the worst punishment he could have given you!"

"But why do I have to get a job?! I need to be out there-" Black*Star motioned to the city skyline. "Training and getting my 99 souls and witch soul!"

"Black*Star," Kid took a deep breathe before continuing. "You will still have time for missions, but you have to pay the school back for all expenses you've caused, past and future. Maybe this will teach you to appreciate others' things without having to destroy everything."

"But-" Black*Star groaned and kicked a pebble that flew over to down the long staircase.

"No butts, Black*Star. Father said that you are to get a job within one week and that's final" Kid interrupted and picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of his signature symmetrical suit before heading back inside for lunch.

Black*Star watched Kid go inside and then slumped to the ground by a pillar. "How am I supposed get a _job_?!" he yelled to sky, hoping that someone up there would hear him, but then again, they were probably enjoying torturing him too much to help him. Not that he needed help.

This was just great. Tsubaki would probably love this-someone else thinking he needed to stop making his glorious speeches. Maybe his stunts were a little dangerous from time to time, but only for mortals and it wasn't like he was ever going tell Tsubaki he was wrong. He was much too big for that.

The fight. Dear Death, he was already getting a headache just thinking about it. He wasn't going to back down-he was a god, and he needed everyone to know that.

But Tsubaki wasn't backing down either. This was different from how if she ever got mad, it'd only be a single moment of anger before she let it go. So _yes_, he tried to apologize to her. But he might have ruined it when they ended up arguing and he insulted her, yelling that she was fully able to stop him from doing those stunts.

Maybe he was being unfair. He should be focused on making her into one of Lord Death's weapons, not showing off to people. But she should still cut him some slack-she knew was she was getting into when they decided to become partners!

"Hey, Black*Star," a soft voice said. Black*Star looked up to see Tsubaki standing beside him, holding a brown paper bag. Her shoulders were slumped and brow was tense. Great. He needed another argument right now.

"Oh. Hey," he waved and closed his eyes to try to ignore the awkward tension.

"Here," Tsubaki put the bag on his lap and sat beside him, careful to not be too close to him. "I thought you might be hungry since you weren't there at lunch."

Black*Star opened the bag and saw a sandwich, apple, and some chips waiting for him. He glanced at her curiously, "Why the sudden change of heart?"

She shook her head, gazing at the city skyline, "I'd hardly call making sure you don't starve yourself a change of heart, Black*Star. I got you some water too."

He scrunched his eyebrows together when she handed him a bottle of water. She was still mad at him; he could feel it in her soul wavelength. Wait, no. Mad wasn't the right word. Frustrated and annoyed were probably better.

He should say something. Anything would do. But if he did, he'd screw up, he knew he would. He always did. So he ate in the tense silence, staring at the skyline beside her.

"I heard you and Kid yelling about something," Tsubaki said plainly and leaned back on the pillar. "What were you two arguing about?"

He had a choice: tell her now or later. It wasn't much of a choice, but he mulled it over before responding, "Eh, nothing really. Lord Death wants me to pay back the school for the damage I've caused."

Tsubaki nodded, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "I don't think we have the money, Black*Star."

"I know. I'm going to get a job to pay him back," he waved his hand carelessly and sighed. "So don't worry about it, alright?"

She frowned, uncertainty brimming in her wavelength as she turned her attention back to the skyline, "Whatever you say, Black*Star."

* * *

**Hm...I still like Tom. He's such a nice guy.**

**Steve: But what about Free?**

**Me: Free's weird sometimes. He's the klutz we need because he makes us laugh.**

**Steve: Dog people are so stupid.**

**Me: I'm a dog person.**

**Steve: You think I don't know that?**

**Me: Why are you even bothering me?**

**Steve: Cuz I can. *slurps from his bag of milk* Deal with it, Benji.**

**Me: Seriously? Don't you have better things to do? If you're the voice in my head, then why are you bugging me with this fanfiction and not, I dunno, making sure my head's organized or something.**

**Steve: Have you seen your head? Like I could EVER organize that.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	10. Creepy Dreams and Underpants

**Oi! Chapter ten?! It took me two days to edit, but screw it. I miscalculated too-this isn't the mega-chapter. This one's a little over 5.5k, and the big chapter is over 10k. Goodie.**

**Still, this chapter is rather action packed. Or more so than the others. I know what everyone's thinking: Finally! Some plot!**

**Yep! Plot! I hate plot, but oh well~! I gave up having nice things I wanted when I finished editing chapter six.**

* * *

**Disclaimer? Need I say? I art not own Soul Eater, for thou knowest that to be true. 'Tis the creation of a wiser sire, who knowest how to publish his work for the masses.**

* * *

_**Time's said pretty close to the beginning so I'm not doing that. But setting is inside Crona's room, if you need me to tell you that. Idiots.**_

* * *

Crona sighed, lying on his bed as he closed his eyes in thought. A name. Yes, he needed a name for Professor Stein's snake. He needed a good name, one that meant something. Not a bland name he'd think on a whim, but dislike later. But what made a good name?

The fact that the professor trusted him with this, meant it must be important, and that made a funny feeling bubble in his chest. He felt like he could do anything and that _he_ was important. It was a nice feeling, one he had never felt before.

But what kind of name does one name a snake?

That seemed like a question that Maka would know the answer to. She'd probably have a book full of perfect names, while he was stuck with a book he couldn't even read.

What day was it? How long had he been down here, hiding under the DWMA? It had to be getting close to two weeks now, which meant he was half way done.

Did they know he was here? Did they care he wasn't with them?

Was Professor Stein relieved to know that in a short while, he would be able to get rid of Crona, and be done with seeing him?

He took a deep breath of air, disliking the mildew the room constantly reeked of. He missed the world outside, just a tiny bit. Just enough to want to be done with these lessons.

Maybe he was thinking too much. If he kept this up, he'd get cabin fever or something.

And if that happened, how would he deal with that?

He flopped onto his side, scowling at the book still sitting on his nightstand. No matter how hard he tried or how long he stared at the pages, he couldn't understand that gibberish.

Should he try to wake Ragnarok from his internal nap? He might know what to do, or he would at least provide something else for him to focus on.

Biting his lip, he reached for the book and his hand brushed across its cover. It had lost its dusty apparel after Crona had spent hours trying to clean it, and it was finally losing its oregano smell. Which was good. That smell reminded him of _her_, and how she'd used that herb to make pasta late some nights if he did a good job.

He lifted the book, placing it on his stomach as he turned to the first page. It was infuriating, not being able to understand what these pages said. Maybe he if tried to focus on something else, he'd think of a good name for the professor's snake.

His eyes caught on a diagram, a sketch of a person with their limbs extended outward. Notes were scribbled around the drawing, sentences structured by the book's author. At the top of the page a single symbol that stood alone, like it was the title of the page. It was a two lines crossed together, like an 'X' with a small dot on the left side of the lines, and another dot on the right side.

It reminded him of Ragnarok's physical form, and the demon's face to be more exact. Was the page about his weapon? His fingers fumbled with the paper as he glared at the picture again. As he glanced at it again, he realized that the person was distinctively male, covered from head to toe in thick armor. The person's head was covered by a helmet, but it made him wonder. Who was the man on the page?

There was a stirring inside his chest, a groggy yawn sounding off somewhere in the depth of his head. "_Are ya lookin' at that dumb book again?'_"

How could a book dumb? Shaking his head, Crona continued to stare at the page. Hesitantly, he sat up, his back leaning against his bed frame. He felt so close to figuring it out, but yet, was he truly? Was he imaging it, and was still far away from the answer?

"_Really? If ya love that freakin' book SO much, why don't ya go marry it and leave me in peace?" _Ragnarok growled, a buzzing noise at the back of his head.

Crona didn't understand marriage laws, but he was fairly sure things didn't work that way.

"_Sure it is! If ya really love it, who really has the authority to stop ya?" _Ragnarok snickered, materializing on Crona's back. As he did this, Crona was pushed forward so that the weapon wasn't pressed onto the bed frame.

He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the page, "No, I don't think that's how _love_ works, Ragnarok."

"And just what do _you_ know about love?" the weapon scoffed. "Oh, that's right! Nothing, you know _nothing_!"

"And you know any more than I do?" Crona asked without turning his head up. He _knew_ what that symbol meant, but what?

"Actually, I do!" the demon muttered, yanking his meister's head up to face him instead of the book. "I just happened to have a life before I got stuck with you, you know!"

"Well, you should tell me about your rich love life at bedtime to help me fall asleep," he closed his eyes as Ragnarok pulled back, stretching his neck. His brow creased-it was easy for him to talk to Ragnarok, easier than talking to anybody else. Even Maka. But that might be because he and Ragnarok literally lived together.

"H-Hey! Why I oughta!" Ragnarok shouted, snatching Crona's nose with his other hand and shook it with a jerk of his little fist. "For your information, I happened be quite the ladies man before-"

"Hey," he shook his head, causing his weapon to lose his grip. He pointed to the symbol with a thin finger, "It looks like you."

"Eh? What looks like me?" Ragnarok sighed before looking at the book in Crona's lap.

"That," he repeated, pressing his finger into the page. What did the symbol mean?. "It looks like you."

Ragnarok looked at the symbol for a minute before shaking his head, "I don't see anything. I think the fumes down here are finally getting to ya."

"I'm serious! It's _your name_, Ragnarok!'" he retorted, his hands clenching in anger. Then he tensed, as did Ragnarok when his words hit him. It was true, that symbol was his weapon's name. He _knew_ it. It had to be.

"U-Umm... And just how do you know that?" Ragnarok gulped, gazing down at Crona's head.

He blinked, looking at the page again, "I-I don't know. It just came to me."

"Well," Ragnarok coughed, rubbing the back of his own head. "Are the other things just comin' to you?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, glancing at the notes of the diagram again. The first symbol seemed familiar-like he had seen it recently in real life. It was three diamonds in a horizontal row, with the middle diamond slightly larger than the other two. Yes, he had seen that symbol somewhere outside the walls of his room. But from where? He pointed to it numbly, still shocked at his revelation, "That one, I guess. It seems familiar."

"Hm..." Ragnarok sighed, a thoughtful look on his face. "Ya know, it kinda does... I can't seem to place where I've seen it though."

It reminded him of Maka, of that darker time when they weren't friends. It reminded him of standing in an empty room with a stronger version of Ragnarok, listening to the furious footsteps running toward him. When those two people were helping _her_, and they were holding a vial of black blood while he stood guard. His eyes widened as his fingers ran across the paper, brushing over the three diamonds, "Kishin."

"What?! Where?!" the demon yelled, already half-way to transforming to his sword form.

"Wah? No!" he blinked, a confused look on his face before his sighed, "That's what that means. Kishin!"

"Oh, yeah. I guess it does," Ragnarok stopped struggling to change forms and crossed his arms. "Are you going to tell Professor Stein about your new revelation?"

Should he tell the professor? Maybe he was supposed to, but it wasn't like Crona could actually translate a full sentence or anything. No, he knew the equivalent of two words. And what good would that do for the professor? He closed the book, placing it back on the nightstands as he replied, "No. I think I'll wait-just for now."

"O-Okay. I'll just go back to sleep now," Ragnarok muttered, disappearing. "Don't wake me up unless the room's burnin' down, alright?"

Carefully, he slid the blanket over himself, glancing out of the tiny window he had. Through the bars, he could see how dark it was becoming and he bit his lip nervously. Ragnarok and Kishin. Both on the same page. He didn't know much about his weapon's life before they knew each other-although he doubted the demon was really had a great love life. It did make him think-was Ragnarok an evil person before he knew the Lady? Maybe, if the word Kishin was able to be linked to his name that easily.

What did the first sentence say? It might tell him something. Something he needed to know.

"_Hey! Would ya mind shutting up!? Some people would like to do this magical thing called sleeping!"_ an irritated whine complained.

Was it wrong to wonder? If he looked for answers, would he find things he didn't want to know, things that might change how he saw the world?

"_When it keeps me from sleeping? Yes, it is wrong. EVERYTHING is wrong."_

* * *

_**Fine! I'm sorry for calling the readers idiots! Benji said it wasn't very nice and that's he shove a corn dog somewhere if I didn't apologize. So there, I apologized. I'm not actually sorry, but you can just suck it up.**_

* * *

"Now, why did I have go and do that?" Black*Star frowned, his arms behind his head as he wandered the empty streets of Death City. "Why couldn't I have just said I'm sorry and be done with all of this?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he passed by a few small shops. He needed a job, and Kid wouldn't get off of his case about it. That was why he was out this late. Normally, he'd be doing some late-night exercises before bed.

Well, there was another reason he was out here.

He had another fight with Tsubaki.

Not that she kicked him out or anything. She would never do that, no matter how ticked she was. He just didn't want to be home with her like that.

Black*Star was an idiot, he knew that. He had to make his situation with her worse than it already was because he was too damn proud to apologize.

An annoyed groan escaped his mouth, earning him a confused look from a hobo shifting through a trash can. They had almost made up too, but no! He had to open his big mouth and screw it up.

In their recent fights, they've called each other some pretty nasty names. Scary-cat, pushover, weakling, stupid. The names felt wrong, and guilt cut at him for screaming those things at her.

But tonight?

He had hit a new low.

Pervert.

That's what he called her. A pervert. It was out of place and it had nothing to do with what they were arguing about.

But that look on her face-it made him want to snatch the words in midair so she wouldn't ever hear them. At first, there wasn't an expression on her face, then shock. But then? She was furious. She had set her jaw, turned on her heel and stormed out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

He was a jerk. If she was planning a painful revenge for him, he didn't blame her. He deserved it.

Glancing up a window, he saw another store. His eyes scanned it for any chance of finding a help wanted sign. But it was just his luck that all the shops were closed.

He sighed, wandering toward a bus stop next to a two-story building. It was at the intersection of Washington Avenue and Jackson Drive, and the next bus would stop by in twenty minutes. Great. Only twenty minutes until he had to feel the hot wrath of his weapon's anger.

As he got closer, he noticed little things about the building. It was a cafe, an older building made of a mixture of siding and wood. The window had a large sign on it written it wax. 'Freedom or Croak.' Weird name.

But under the cafe's name was another sign. A small red sign with two words on it that changed everything. 'Help wanted.' His eyes darted, trying to peer inside the building. Even better than finding the sign, he realized people were still inside. Which meant it was still open. He took the sign in his hands, disbelievingly.

He grinned, rushing through the door. He might get a job tonight after all!

"I'm sorry, sir, but we're closed for the day *Ribbit*," a girl slumped against a wooden counter, a rag in one hand as she tiredly wiped its surface. "Come back tomorrow morning at eight"

"I'm here for the job!" his grin became uncomfortable, the girl looked familiar. Why?

The walls were blank and unwelcoming. Everything else seemed cozy, but the walls unsettled him with how empty they made the cafe look. Had they forgotten to decorate?

"Oh!" she glanced up at him, a nervous look in her eye. "Well, you'll have to wait for my...er- partner to come down to interview you."

"That's alright! I've have time," he chuckled, pain edging in his voice as he went over to sit on on of the bar stools. He did have time. Quite a bit of it, in fact.

"Um, I'll just take that*Ribbit*," she pointed to the sign in his hand. Taking it gently, she placed it under her counter. That made him want to scratch his head. How did she fit a sign that big under her counter?

"So," he hummed, trying to pass the time in the awkward silence. He caught the sight a to go menu. "Are you new to town?"

"Huh? Yeah, We just opened not too long ago," she shrugged. Where did he know her from? "Oh! By the way, my name's Eruka."

"Black*Star," he smiled, shaking her hand. Eruka. That was an odd name. But a familiar one.

"My um...partner's name is Free, and he'll be down in a minute...*Ribbit* I think," she explained before putting the towel she was cleaning with under the counter.

"So..." he leaned back, he need to make small talk. This tension was killing him! But what could he talk about-that's it! He knew exactly what he could talk to her about! "How long have you been married?"

Eruka blinked, a croak escaping her throat, "W-What?"

"You and the Free guy. You said you were partners, right?" he cocked his head to the side, confused. She seemed flustered now. Why?

"What?! N-No! We're just friends! *Ribbit* And barely that!" she explained frantically, waving her arms in front of her. "We just run the cafe together!"

"Oh! I'm _so_ sorry! I just um... figured," he grimaced. Did he have to always screw things up with his big mouth? He rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry"

"What's the commotion down here?" a tall, muscular man lumbered down the staircase by the counter and looked at Black*Star and Eruka curiously. "Something I should know about?"

"N-Nothing! Nothing you need to know about! Um...he wants to apply for the job, Free! *Ribbit*" Eruka laughed nervously, motioning to Black*Star.

"Huh? Really?" the man glanced at Black*Star, who gulped. This man also looked familiar. "Well, what'da ya got, kid?"

"Oh!" Black*Star said. He hoped he got this job, he didn't want to end up cleaning up books at the DWMA library to pay back the money! "I'm a hard worker, and I've been told I'm _really_ energetic, too. And-hey! I remember you!"

"Come again?" Free raised a brow suspiciously.

"I thought you two looked familiar! You two used to work for Medusa and injected the black blood into the Kishin, which started the whole war!" Black*Star fumed, hopping onto his feet. It was that same stupid guy he, Tsubaki, Maka, and Soul met on that mission so long ago!

"Oh yeah," Free rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You're that hyper kid with the ninja sword, right? Hey, Eruka, remember that? You were there, too!"

Eruka looked between Black*Star and Free nervously, "*Ribbit* Yeah, Free. I remember."

"You damn bastards!" Black*Star growled, his soul wavelength sparking on the tips of his fingers. He stepped toward Free, who shifted behind a table. His hands grasped the table, clenching down on it. "You made me look weak! I'm a friggin' god-no way in hell does _anybody_ make me look weak!"

He yanked up, flinging the table across the room. The table slammed into the blank wall, creating a huge dent in the wood panel. He was about to grin in victory up until he felt a large hand lift him up. Free glowered at him, forcing Black*Star to dangle in midair as he clinched the collar of his shirt. He growled, "You better watch it, kid!"

Black*Star's eyes narrowed and he jutted his hand forward, shocking Free with his wavelength. Free fell back into another table, dragging Black*Star down with him. Their heads hit the floor with a bang, and Free thumped him in the forehead as Black*Star punched him hard in the side.

Free shoved Black*Star off of him and stood, his back arched angrily. He brought his foot down, trying to stomp on the young meister as Black*Star rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet. Black*Star yelled, tackling Free. Free didn't fall down though, but wrapped his huge arms around Black*Star, trapping him.

"Leggo, you prick!" Black*Star grunted, squirming to get out of his grip.

"Make me, ya pest!" Free growled again, his hands digging into Black*Star's torso. His hands were sharp like claws, the pain almost making Black*Star cry out. Instead, he moved both of his hands in front of him onto Free's abdomen and hit him with his wavelength again. But Free didn't let go, pulling tighter.

"STOP IT!" a scream rang through the cafe, and they both turned to where the voice had come from. Eruka was holding a towel in her hand, wringing it angrily. She snarled, "Stop it! Both of you!"

Free shoved Black*Star away and laughed fearfully, "H-He started it! I just defending the cafe!"

"I started it?! I'm pretty sure _you_ started it way back on that bridge!" Black*Star tensed, ready to pounce on Free again.

"Shut it!" Eruka stepped closer, her grip tightening around her towel. How did she make that towel look like a dangerous weapon? Black*Star needed to learn how to do that; the skill would definitely come in handy. "Not one word from either of you!

"You need a job, right?!" Eruka glared pointedly at Black*Star, who nodded quickly in response. "You can work here, but you're cleaning up this mess _and_ you have to not rat us out."

"And why would I do that?" Black*Star squinted, leaning away into Free's chest until his back touched the man's stomach which was his cue to jump away.

"You seem to need a job pretty desperately," she made a weird sound in her throat, like a cross between a growl and a croak. "I don't think anyone would hire you in their right mind, and _if_ they did hire you, they'd fired you as soon as you screwed something up. You can work here, as a paid employee, under those conditions."

"Are you blackmailing me?" he scoffed, leaning on the counter.

"Yes," she shrugged, like the subject didn't bother her. "Look, we don't do any of that stuff we used to, alright? Medusa's dead, so we don't _need_ to.

"Do you want the job or not?"

Black*Star glanced up at Free, who seemed like he wanted to protest but shivered under Eruka's glare. Did he want this job? Unfortunately, what she said was true. Who would hire him of all people? He pressed his lips together as he remembered something he read once.

'Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.'

With that in mind, he nodded firmly. Eruka grunted, throwing her towel on the counter, "Great. Come back tomorrow afternoon at four. And both of you can clean up that mess."

She stormed up the stairs, each footstep more heavy than the last. Free scowled, walking over to Black*Star, "Nice to have you on the team, _kid_."

"Great to be on the team, _sir_," he shot back, watching Free lean on a plate only half-way on the counter. At first, the plate wobbled under his weight, but Free didn't seem to notice. But he did seem to notice that the plate couldn't hold him up when the plate broke into two halves. Free fell to the floor, both halves toppling down with him and shattering when they touched the floor.

"Shit," Free groaned, his hand wiping his face.

Black*Star rolled his eyes, leaning on the counter. He scoffed, "You okay?"

"Of course, I'm _immortal_," Free sat up, his shoulders tense as he glared up Black*Star. "Why the hell do you ca-"

"Free?! Do I need to call poison control again?! *Ribbit*" Eruka yelled upstairs. Her footsteps could be heard coming down the steps and she groaned, "*Ribbit* How many times do I have to tell you not to lick random things?!"

Black*Star shook his head-he'd keep an eye on these two losers. The first time they slipped up and revealed they were up to no good, he'd be there.

* * *

_**Hours later. Student dormitories, but south of Maka and Soul's building. They don't live in the same building, but that obvious since they get sleep each and every night, right?**_

* * *

Black*Star gulped and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He was standing right outside of his and Tsubaki's apartment door. He knew that when he opened that door, anything could happen.

Shakily, his hand found the knob and twisted, forcing the door open. Why was he so nervous? He just kicked a werewolf's butt _and_ got a job. So he should feel on top of the world, right?

Nope. He wasn't on top of the world because he knew his weapon was still pissed at him.

He poked his head into the living room, not seeing Tsubaki sitting on the couch. Weird. Normally she'd be watching her cheesy soap operas right now, then she'd go get ready for bed.

Tip-toeing inside, he closed the door as softly as he could manage. He did a double-take at the kitchen. She wasn't there either. He was about to check the bedroom but something in the kitchen smelled _delicious_. Bending over, he checked inside the oven. Nothing in there. He scratched his head-what was creating that smell? The microwave! He yanked open the door to the tiny machine, finding a bowl of leftover noddles and chopsticks.

It was still warm, so that meant she was near by, right?

He went back into the living room with the bowl in hand, glancing down at the couch.

Crud.

The couch had a pillow and couple of blankets on it. A makeshift bed.

Well, at least he knew where he was sleeping now.

He heard a door open and he whipped around to see Tsubaki standing in the door of the bedroom, leaning against the door frame in her pajamas. He coughed awkwardly, "Hey."

"You're home," she whispered, watching him carefully with her large brown eyes. He glanced down at the couch, then his bowl of noddles, and she sighed, shaking her head, "That's for me, Black*Star."

"W-Wah?" he frowned, holding the noddles out, waiting for her to take them. They were hers, right?

"No, not the noodles. The couch," she murmured hoarsely, making it hard for him to hear her. Then, her jaw set the tiniest bit-she was angry. No, she was furious. Maybe it didn't look like it, but he knew her well enough to know she was pissed. She wouldn't yell, or punch, or blow up at him. She'd just stand there, reserved during their fights. It made him wish she _would_ just blow up at him. Then it'd all be over-no more tension, no more silent treatments, no more fighting! She repeated herself, more firmly, "I'm sleeping on the couch tonight. That way you can sleep in the bedroom alone. I wouldn't want you to worry about pedophiles."

With that, she brushed past him as she walked to the couch. She laid down, turned on her side away from him. He sighed, taking a step toward the door. He should say something, but he knew he'd just screw things up more if he did. Tsubaki shifted on the couch, mumbling, "And Black*Star? Try to not make a mess."

He nodded, closing the bedroom door behind him. He slumped on the door, sliding down to the floor with the bowl of noddles in his hands. Remorsefully, he took a guilty bite of the meal his weapon made fresh a couple of nights ago while he was gone, trying to make a speech downtown during the dinner rush hour.

He was a jerk.

* * *

_**Stein's house. Same time. So meanwhile?**_

* * *

"One more time: what possessed you to buy a snake?" Marie sweat-dropped, holding a steady gaze with the black serpent slithering in the tiny metal cage as she tried to prepare sandwiches. The snake was burying itself under its straw bedding, hiding from the heat lamp sitting on top of the cage.

Dear Death, Stein was so weird sometimes.

The man couldn't get a dog, or a cat, or even a bunny. No, he had to have a snake.

"It's not for me," Stein shrugged, laying on the beaten-down couch with his laptop on his stomach. "It's for Crona."

She sighed, slamming the ham and cheese sandwich on the counter, "Then why's it here?!"

"That snake is a girl, you know," he smirked, typing into his machine as its blue light flooded over his face. "She probably feels insulted to be referred to as an it."

"Okay," she rolled her good eye, moving some beakers over the Bunsen burners to make some tea. "Then why is _she_ here if _she_ belongs to Crona?"

"That's because I haven't officially given her to Crona yet," he murmured, clicking on an email. "She's going to be a present for when Crona finishes these lessons."

"So for the next two weeks I need to buy how much mice?" Marie huffed, trying to get the darn Bunsen burner to turn on. Stupid complicated machine. "Does Crona even know that the snake's his?"

"She has no idea. I did say she could name the snake, though," Stein closed out of the internet window, clicking on the Microsoft Word shortcut. He still had to make this week's surprise test. "And I already bought the mice when I was out the other day. I know how you get around rodents."

"Why a snake?" she scoffed, fiddling with the switches of the machine. Which one turned it one? "Why not a puppy, or a kitten, or even a hamster?"

He shook his head, setting the laptop aside and stood. A smug smile played on his mouth as he walked over to her, "I believe it was the most logical solution."

"If you say so," she bit her lip, snatching a tea packet and placing it inside the beaker. She turned around to get creamer for the drink, leaning back when she saw Stein standing _right there_, his arm reaching around her to flick a button. A weak laugh escaped her throat, "Oh. Hey?"

"Hey. And I know so, Marie," he frowned when the machine didn't turn on. Slumping his shoulders, he closed his eyes and exhaled. It wasn't plugged in. "I heard from Spirit that you plan on staying to teach at the school. What happened to settling down and getting married?"

She pushed him away gently, plugging the machine in. The Bunsen burner whirred to life, a blue flame dancing around the beaker of water. "Isn't Death City just a good of a place to settle down as any other?"

"Yes," he replied, stepping back. He leaned on the refrigerator, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Oh, I put the things you wanted me to buy on the table."

Glancing over at the creepy table covered in odd scars, or odd for a metal table, she frowned at the plastic Wal-Mart bags, "I thought I told you to start using reusable cloth bags when you go shopping! Plastic bags kill the Earth, one apple at a time!"

"First of all, I don't even get a bag when if I'm just buying an apple," he shook his head at her, moving out of the way so she could get the creamer. "And secondly, pollution is caused by more than just plastic bags."

"But it plays a role," she shot back hotly, giving him a knowing look. "And I know you care about the Earth, too! You keep taking my bag every day!"

"Hm, yeah?" he waved at her, dismissing her accusation. "I only take it because it's so big. It helps me carry my equipment to and away from the academy."

"Hmph! You need to stop that-I happen to need it for something," she moved the tea away from the flame, pouring in creamer in the beaker. "There's a reason I asked you to buy it in the first place."

"And that reason is?"

"Well, if I told you that, that would ruin the surprise," she snickered mischievously, sipping her tea. "And we can't have that, can we?"

* * *

_**Late at night in downtown Death City.**_

* * *

"I.D. please," a voice dressed in a white gown and a black mask resembling Lord Death's commanded at the entrance of the meeting place.

A figure pulled a card from inside of their own matching outfit and handed it to the guard. Once they cleared the figure, the figure stepped into the long-thought abandoned building on the north side of Death City. It used to a toilet paper warehouse until about a decade ago when the company when bankrupt.

The entry room was large, brick walls towering over them. Graffiti covered most of these walls, public officials eventually giving up on trying to clean the building clean.

People in matching outfits ran around the room, frantically trying to find their friends before the meeting began. The figure sighed and walked further into the room to only get shoved by one of the people running around.

"H-Hey! What'da ya think yer doin'?!" the figure griped at the person who shoved them. He didn't come here to get shoved around like a doll, he came here for the meeting!

"Huh?" the person stood there for a moment, maybe looking at the figure, but you couldn't tell from the masks they were both wearing. "Devon?"

Devon, the figure, cocked his head to one side to show his confusion without having to take off his mask. It was against policy to take off their outfits during the meetings, no matter how goofy the outfits were.

"Oh, it's me," the person laughed, realizing Devon couldn't see his face. "It's me, _Hiro_. Aren't you a little late? The meeting is about to begin!"

"I had some stuff I had to do," Devon shrugged. "Why? Did I miss somethin'?"

"Nah," Hiro waved. "But I don't remember there being this many people at the last meeting, though."

"Well," Devon said slowly. "We're 'posed to be growin' in numbers, ya know."

"Yeah, but-" he scratched the back of his head as microphone feed screamed throughout the room, causing everyone's attention to shift to the platform at the front of the crowd.

"Attention!" a figure announced from the platform, their hand patting the shoulder of another figure beside them. Clearing their throat, they continued, "This is meeting number thirty-seven of Phoenix!" The figure pulled out a clipboard and cleared their throat again.

Devon looked at his boots soundlessly as the figure did role call. One by one, each person there identified themselves.

"Devon Barbod?" the figure bellowed into their mic.

"Here," Devon mumbled just loud enough for the figure to hear him, but not so loud to be rude.

The figure continued to call out names until everyone was accounted for. After they were done, they gave the clipboard the another figure standing beside them.

"Now, I would like to thank you all for attending this meeting," the other figure said. "Because of you, our numbers have grown rapidly. Now, while we are much bigger, we cannot make our move just yet.

"We will wait until the time is right for the taking," the figure nodded and went on. Their voice was older, a gentle rough noise to it. Like gravel. "We have nothing to fear because even death cannot reach us. We are the rebirth; the revolution!"

The crowd surrounding Devon and Hiro shouted in approval, shuffling and stomping. The two of them joined in the yelling. This was their cause, so they lived for it.

"I swear, to each and every one of you, on my life!" the figure shouted into the microphone, their voice straining to be heard. "No matter how much we hurt, how much we bleed, we will not lose!

"Death will burn, and we will rise from the ashes to govern the new world in our image!"

* * *

**Oh, so angry at the end! Hm...can anyone guess who the leader is? The figure that didn't do role call? Yeah, that one? I didn't know myself until chapter twelve actually... Then I edited and made it more obvious for everybody!**

**Hiro is a character in Soul Eater. Hero is a character from Shakespeare's **_**Much Ado About Nothing**_**. It took me a while to figure out the names were spelled differently. They sound the same, but NO, not spelled the same.**

**Steve: You read Shakespeare?**

**Me: Sometimes. I liked **_**Much Ado About Nothing.**_ **Quite funny. It had a lot of dirty jokes.**

**Steve: Normally made by Beatrice.**

**Me: Yes, but those jokes were directed at Benedict. And who names their son Benedict? It just sets them up for those kind of jokes! And it wasn't like he didn't return the favor at her!**

**Steve: Yes, you **_**are**_ **very gay.**

**Me: That has nothing to do with anything!**

**Steve: It has to do with everything. What straight guy reads Shakespeare in his free time for the fun of it?**

**Me: Corn dog?**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans of Kanto**


	11. Laptops and Old guys

**Chapter 11 is done! Yesh! You realize what this means?! It means I only have one chapter left to edit!**

**And then I have to write a new chapter. Crap.**

**But this chapter is fun. Really. Lots of cursing, underage drinking, underpants jokes, lemonade (yes, again), and haircuts!**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Soul Eater is not a product of this author and is only a fan-made writing that means no infringement upon the owners of Soul Eater. So back off, brah.**

* * *

_**Following day at the Death Manor. 9 a.m. I'm bored. I can't even talk in third person anymore. Stupid Benji.**_

* * *

"But Kid!" Patti whined, laying on her stomach on the couch of their living room. She let out a heavy sigh, trying to get Kid's attention as he leaned on his toes to measure the length of his doorway. "Why not?"

"I said no, Patti," he mumbled, trying to get his tape measure to work. It was a pathetic sight, really. He jerked the small object around, but he couldn't seem to get the ruler out of it. Then, all of the tape flew out, wrapping around him tightly. He grunted, trapped in a cocoon of dashes and numbers.

"But Kid!" she repeated, flopping on her back to see Kid choking to death from the tape measure. She should go help him, but that was no fun! So instead, she giggled as she tapped the rim of her hat, "Why not?"

"I will not buy you another toy giraffe and that's final!" he huffed, angrily trying to rip through the tape. But the evil tool wouldn't budge, and constricted more around legs. He fell with a painful thud as he groaned, "Why can't you play with the eighty-eight toy giraffes you already have?"

"Cuz they're full of lead," she rolled her eyes, wasn't that the obvious answer?

Kid sighed, trying to inch toward the table. There, on the edge was a pair of scissors. "And why are they full of lead?"

"Mister and Missus Giraffe were fighting again! Kid, I had to put an end to it!" she cried out in exasperation, waving her arms frantically. "Day after day, they'd fight, Kid! It was driving me insane!"

"I refuse to purchase you another one, Patti," his head bumped into the leg of the table and he rolled over, trying to stand up. "Why don't you ask your sister for money if you need a new toy so badly?"

"I can't," she glanced at the door worriedly, a crease appearing on her brow. "She's out."

"Really?" Kid used his chin to grapple the edge of the table, pulling himself up. It wasn't until he was finally standing again that the girl's words registered and he fell back down with a thud, knocking the scissors down on the floor in front of his feet.

down the front door. "Wait, where is she?"

"Out."

"Yes, you said that already," Kid scowled, snipping at the tape with the scissors. "But _where_ is she? Exactly?"

"I dunno," she tilted her hat over her face so he couldn't see her grin. "She's with some guy-said I couldn't come with her though."

"Is that all?" Kid shrugged, finally getting the tape to release him as he cut the horrid tool into perfect increments of eight centimeters each. Then, his eyes widened, "What?! Why didn't she tell me before she left?!"

"I dunno that either, Kiddo," she snickered at him, amused at he paled more than he normally was. "Why's it such a big deal, anyway?"

"B-Because-he-uh, he might be asymmetrical!" Kid shouted, a hot blush taking over his face. He tensed in a way that seemed like he might have another O.C.D. panic attack, throwing the tape measure remains off of him and organizing them into eight piles of eight pieces of tape.

"Who might be asymmetrical?"

"Santa Claus! No, Patti, Liz's date, that's who!" he growled, a weird noise for someone as formal as him. "Who else could I be talking about?!"

"The Easter Bunny," Patti suggested, biting her cheek gleefully when he responded with a shout of anguish. "And Kiddo, I don't think anybody is perfectly symmetrical."

"I am quite certain that there are people in this world that are indeed perfectly symmetrical, Patti," Kid stood on shaky legs, using the table to balance himself.

"No, I don't think so," she grinned, her eyes flicking up to his hair.

"Yes, Patti, there are!"

"Nope."

"Patti!" he slammed both of his hands on the table, glaring at her. He glanced at the table's surface, pleased to find a mirror lying there from when Liz presumably spent her time getting ready for her date and forgot to put the mirror back in the bathroom drawer. Picking it up, he showed Patti the reflection, "I'll prove it to you! Look! Beside the monstrosity of the stripes on my head, _I _am perfectly symmetrical!"

"Hm...Still nope."

"Patti," he took a long, deep breath to calm himself. "I am _perfectly symmetrical_. Right?"

"Not right." she snickered again and pointed to his head. "Right there! You're not symmetrical!"

"I said without the stripes," he scowled, holding the mirror so he could see himself.

"I'm not talking about that," she flopped back onto her stomach and pointed to the _other_ side of his head. "I was talking about your cowlick, silly!"

He fell silent, glancing down at his reflection. She had to be kidding, right? But no, Patti rolled over to far in her laughter and fell off of the couch. So he looked closer at the side of his head opposite of the stripes.

No.

No.

No!

Patti _wasn't_ kidding! There was a cowlick on the side of his head! And only one! Not two, or evenly or balanced or symmetrical. Only _one_.

"You didn't know?!" Patti snorted, her face beet red from not breathing. Her hand slammed on the soft carpet, "I though Sis was kidding when she said you never noticed it!"

"Patrica?" he leaned his head back, taking a calming breath.

"Yeah?"

"Get out," he growled, grabbing the scissors off of the floor.

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" she grinned, pushing herself off of the floor and stumbling over to the door. "See ya later, Kiddo!"

He gritted his teeth, watching her run across the lawn-tearing up the daisies that the gardeners just planted yesterday. Raising the mirror again, he scowled at the cowlick and glanced at the scissors in his hand. Then, an idea struck him and he grinned.

"Okay, Mr. Asymmetrical Garbage," Kid muttered under his breath, referring to his newly discovered cowlick. "I'd like to introduce you to Ms. Scissors. I think you two are going to get along quite nicely."

And one can only imagine how this is going to end...

* * *

_**Meanwhile at Stein's house. Does anyone know what a.m. even stands for?**_

* * *

"Why am I doing this?" Stein scowled and glared the dusty old box sitting his living room. He and Marie were sitting on the couch, although she had taken his laptop away for him to see this box.

"Because," Marie smiled softly, patting the box. Dust scattered, and she could feel Stein tense at the dirt next to her.

"Well, in that case," Stein rolled his eyes and stuck his hand down into the box. "W-What?"

Yanking his hand out of the box, Stein picked the box up and shook the contents out onto the floor. A couple of the old shirts he used to wear when he was a student at the DWMA were sprawled out, covered in dust and dirt.

"Marie, why on earth-?"

"Don't you think Crona will look adorable in these?!" she lifted one up, flopping the fabric through the air to get rid of the dust.

"What are you talking about?" he narrowed his eyes, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he glared at the fabric.

"I'm talking about giving these to Crona!" she grinned at him, tossing the shirt on his lap. "He can't wear that dress forever-and aren't you supposed to get him to fit in? I don't wearing a dress everyday will help him _fit in_."

"Again-why?"

"You gave him snake!" she pouted, like the accusation excused her to give Crona all of Stein's old belongings. As if on cue, the snake hissed angrily at her from inside its cage-oh, wait, _her_ cage. Stein always corrected her if she mistook _her_ gender for some reason.

"I _plan_ to give Crona a snake. Nothing is set in stone," he leaned back into the couch, a smug smile playing on his lips. "And what does a snake and my old shirts have in common, Marie? It seems terribly off topic."

"You're off topic," she retorted back, sticking her tongue out at the snake as he rolled his eyes at her. "And if you would let me finish, I would have told you that I want to help you with your lessons with Crona."

"Your point being?"

"A snake may be nice and all, but he needs other things besides a pet," Marie stood up, running into her bedroom. Stein heard a loud crash, scoffing at the noise, and her door slam as she darted back into the living room. In her arms was two things: a dark brown overcoat, and a black hooded sweatshirt. "And look! I got him the cutest things!"

"Marie?"

"Stein?"

"You realize it's August, right?" he frowned at the material she was holding close to her chest. "It's much too hot for her to wear _things_ like that unless you want her to get heatstroke."

"So what?" she looked away from him, focusing on the soft leather of the coat. "I'll just save it for him until it gets cooler."

"You might as well return it to the store. You forgot something much more important than a jacket and a sweatshirt."

"And what that?" she scowled at him, hugging the objects closer.

"Pants."

"Pants?"

"Yes. Pants," Stein drawled, propping his feet on the box. Although, the box couldn't support his weight and crumpled immediately, letting his feet fall on top of the dusty collection of his shirts. "She needs pants, unless you're suggesting that Crona would fit in better if she went to the academy in only her underwear?"

"O-Oh!" she bit her lip, thinking of a solution that wouldn't make her seem like a bigger ditz than Stein already took her for. So she lied, "I was planning on taking him shopping, but I didn't know what size he wears."

"Then why is she going to wear my shirts if you plan on taking her shopping?"

"Because I said so!" she growled, throwing the jacket at him. He caught it easily, running his fingers over the soft fabric as he waited for her to throw the sweatshirt. "You gave him one for Lord Death's anniversary party, remember?"

"So by giving her one shirt for one night, I donated all of my shirts indefinitely?" he chuckled at her, amused at the irritated glare she was giving him.

"Ugh! Why are you even arguing about this?!" she threw the sweatshirt, but since Stein was still looking over the jacket, he wasn't ready to catch it and the clothing flopped onto the top of his head. "You are going to give these shirts to Crona, and you are going to like it!"

"I'm perfectly fine with giving the shirts to her," he grinned at her 'threat,' pulling the sweatshirt off of his head. Watching her get angry was like watching a kitten try to pretend to be a lion."I just want to know why you're giving them to her."

"Erm-He'll be more comfy in them! Yep! That's the reason!" she chattered, smiling lightly at Stein's unsaid apology.

"M'kay," Stein twisted the screw in his head, listening to the resounding click it made as it turned. "Just make sure you keep Crona with you at all times when you two are shopping. She'll get lost without you. Or worse."

"Um, about that," she laughed awkwardly, leaning toward him with huge pleading eyes as a light pink dusted her cheeks. "Will you go with me? Please?"

"Why?"

"It's not that we have to go today or anything, but-uh," she bit her lip grudgingly, her eyes darting away to look at anything but him. "I'll get lost. And I don't want to go down that aisle."

"What aisle?"

"The boy's underwear aisle, Stein. What else?"

"I guess I can go-just not today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. I'm trying to write some exams, so I need the time," he shrugged. "And Marie? How do you know for certain that Crona is male?"

"I-well, he's-I mean, uh-I don't know, okay?" she huffed, turning to go into the kitchen to make lunch. "Guess we'll find out when we go shopping, huh?"

"Does Crona even wear underpants?" he shifted his body, moving so he could lay down on the couch.

"What?" Marie glanced at him, halfway between the bread box and the refrigerator.

"Crona didn't own any belongings upon coming here to the academy, so she-he, _it_-"

"Oh, I see how it is!" she cut him off, pulling a carrot out of the fridge. "That stupid snake is a _she_, but Crona qualifies as at _it_!"

"Off topic, Marie," he frowned, propping his feet on the other end of the couch. "_They_ don't have any other clothes in _their_ room so-"

"So Crona's been wearing the same outfit since he arrived here?" Marie interrupted him again, slicing into the carrot with a scalpel. "Without washing it?!"

"That's the only reasonable explanation, so yes. And that's presuming that Crona wears underpants."

"D-Doesn't everyone wear underwear?" she grimaced at how the conversation had turned. She didn't like how this talk was going.

"I'm not wearing any right now."

"W-Wah?!" she proceeded to choke on her own spit, her face hot in embarrassment. Once she recovered from her near death experience, she scowled at him, "Ew! _Franken Stein_, I did _not _need to know that!"

"I'm also not wearing any socks as we speak," he mused, his gaze drifting down to his feet, which were clad in his boots.

"Seriously, Stein! There is fine line between being social and just being a creep!"

"I'm also-"

"No, Stein. Don't you even dare think about finishing that sentence!"

"Too late. Already thought about finishing it. Now, I do happen to be wearing a cond-"

* * *

_**Noon. Death Room. But really, what DOES a.m. mean?**_

* * *

"Patti? What are you doing here?" Lord Death asked curiously, watching the blonde jump around as she wandered the Death Room. She was in the graveyard, amazed that she was surrounded by crosses, his personal markers that helped keep souls within his domain.

"I dunno," she giggled, touching the black wood of a cross. It made Lord Death worried as she started to play with it-that cross held the soul of Kid's first pet-a mutant pink rabbit. When his son was little, the boy was fascinated with how its pink fur was completely solid and therefore symmetrical. Up until Kid forgot to feed it at on a mission a few years ago and the beloved pet died of hunger. It was odd for him to keep his spirit of his son's pet there in the Death Room, but Kid was less devastated once he found out he could visit his bunny, Mister Fluffy Bottom, whenever he wanted to. But Patti leaned her hands on the rabbit's marker and pushed, "Kid and Sis didn't want me, so I came here!"

"Great," he sweat-dropped, watching her pull the cross out of the ground. When she did this, a faint blue aura escaped from the hole the cross had made from being in the ground and floated away, off to a rabbit heaven of some sort. Lovely. Kid was going to love to know that Mister Fluffy Bottom had finally gone off to a better place due to his hyperactive weapon. "Could you put that down?"

"Sure!" she grinned, dropping the cross on the ground. The marker with a thud, shattering at her feet. "Oops! Sorry!"

"I-It's fine," Lord Death took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he watched Patti bounce over to the archways that led into the Death Room. "I've been meaning to throw that one out anyway."

She either didn't hear the headmaster, or pretended not to as she touched the frame of the arch, licking her lips at the sight of the large metal blade hanging down from it.

"Patti! Why don't you come over here?!" Lord Death ushered her over, concerned at how the blade was swinging now-Kid would blow a gasket if he lost Mister Fluffy Bottom _and_ one of his symmetrical weapons. "I've got something _very_ important for you do!"

"Really?!" she clapped her hands together excitedly, darting over to him. Patti leaned on her heels in front of him, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

"Yep! Very important!" he lied through his teeth-and mask. Not that she could tell. Picking up a small parcel, he handed it to her. "I need you to deliver this package to Sid. You can manage that, right?"

"You bet, Lord D!" she snatched the parcel, hugging it close to her chest enthusiastically.

"And one more thing, Patti," Lord Death frowned, glancing into his mirror. "If you see Black*Star or Tsubaki after you finish this job, tell them I need them to see them as soon as possible. I have a mission for them."

"Kay kay!" she skipped away, swinging the parcel in her arms with each step, leaving a conflicted Death god.

He sighed, turning to his mirror, "Dear Me, what have I done?"

* * *

_**Erm...about thirty minutes later in the hallways under the DWMA.**_

* * *

"Mister Sid! Where are you?!" Patti yelled out, skipping merrily down the dark, moist hallways under the DWMA, the parcel now being held on top of her head as her hands clamped down on it to keep the package balanced. "I've got a box for yooooooooooooou~!

"Come out, come out where ever you are!" she sang, wondering that if Sid came out, did that mean he was gay? It never occurred to her, but it made sense since he wouldn't ever make a move on the lady staff members like Death Scythe did. "It's real important!"

Although as she skipped, her cowboy boots clicking on the stone floor, several ideas did not occur to her. Things like Sid might not even be down in the dungeon, or than she had no idea where she was going, she didn't have a map or a cell phone. Why did she not have a cell phone? Well, a strange event happened last week, and Kid had to take it to the repair store after Patti conducted a special experiment to see if the device was as indestructible as the label said.

So, naturally, she shoved the cell phone down the garbage disposal and it shattered into tiny phone bits after only ten minutes.

Which meant she had no way to communicate with people if she got lost. Like she was now. communication in case she got lost. Like she was now. Not that she realized that or anything.

"For the love of-Crona! Your lunch is getting cold!" an annoyed voice grumbled from around the corner, loud knocking following the voice. "I can't wait forever!"

"Mister Sid?" Patti perked up, bolting around the corner without even bothering to check where she was going. "Siddie!"

"Huh? Wait a second, Cro-you know what? Just keep what you're doing," the voice mumbled. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Mister Sid!" she caught sight of the zombie, not bothering to slow down and flew into his chest head-first. "Oof! I've gotta a package for you!"

"Thank you? Wait, Patti?" Sid frowned, rubbing the back of his head, gently pushing her off of him. In his hands was a small bowl of pasta as he leaned against the large black door of a room. "What are you doing down here? Did you get lost again? I thought I told you-there aren't any giraffes being kept captive down here-"

"Here you go!" she grinned, ignoring his confusion as she shoved the parcel in one of his bulky hands. "Lord Death made me go all the way down here cuz this box is real important!"

"Hm?" Sid looked at the package, it wasn't sealed. Odd. No matter, it made it easier so he could just open it with one hand by flipping the box's cover with a twist of his hands. "Well, thank you Patti. Now, what's so impor-oh."

"So what is it?!" she rocked back on her feet excitedly. "I didn't get to look cuz I was so busy looking for you!"

"Patti? Just how," he glanced down at her, a baffled look on his face. "How did you get my underwear?"

"What'cha talking about, Mister Sid?" she tried to grab at the box, but he yanked it up out of her reach. "I was just told to give you the box!"

Slowly, oh very slowly, Sid pulled a pair of neon pink boxers covered in yellow duckies from the parcel, the name 'Sid' sewn at an unusual place-right at the front of the crotch area. Sid coughed, putting them back into the box and glaring back down at the blonde, "Where did you get these?"

"From Lord Death! I said that already!" she cocked her head to the side, confused about how many duck pictures could fit on one piece of clothing. "But why's it pink?"

"Hm, I haven't seen these since that party Spirit and I had-"

"It's fine, sir! You don't have to explain or anything!" Patti panicked, waving her hands to try and persuade him to not explain his underpants in detail. Or the parties that old people had. "S-So! What'cha doing down here?"

"Huh?" he tucked the parcel under his arm, glancing down at the bowl of pasta. "Oh. Right. I'm just trying to give Crona her lunch."

He motioned to the door he was leaning on, which left Patti to assume that Crona was standing on the other side of it. She frowned, "So why don't you give it to him?"

"Patti, I'm pretty sure that Crona's a girl-you know what? Never mind that," he scoffed, turning so he was facing the door with Patti. "I've been knocking for over twenty minutes but she won't come out."

"Really? Then let me try!" grinning, she stared at the door as if it was a complex jigsaw puzzle before slamming her fist on it as hard as she could manage. "Come on out, Crona!"

"Uh-I don't think that's a good idea, Patti. But I have to go, so, um, have at it?" he shrugged, placing the bowl of pasta delicately on the ground behind her. There was no possible way that Patti would be able to get Crona to come out if he wasn't able to, right? "Just don't scare her too much, alright?"

"Okie Dokie, Mister Sid!" she smiled evilly, lunging at the door as she began to attack it viciously and created a huge racket that probably woke up anyone else trying to sleep down there. "Come on, Crona! Let me in or I'll eat you!"

* * *

_**Time change? Yes, prior to ten minutes BEFORE Sid started to knock on Crona's door. So 11:50 a.m. ARGH! What does that mean?! Benji won't tell me!**_

* * *

Light barely seeped into the rooms under the DWMA, causing it to be dark most of the time. Normally, this was unsettling or annoying since the electric lighting didn't always work. But today, it was different.

Crona had decided to use his free day from the professor's classes to sleep.

So, he was curled under his blanket, his room as cold, dark, and empty as usual. Well, except for himself. But then again, he is cold, dark, and empty, isn't he?

Tossing and turning, his forehead was drenched in sweat as he mumbled in his sleep.

"Nrgh!" a soft noise of surprise as he shifted in his sleep, his hands clenching his blanket so tightly his knuckles turned white. "N-No! I...don't...wanna."

His breath caught, fear keeping him captive even when he closed his eyes, "P-Please!...don't."

* * *

_**Well, this is a change of pace! Crona's nightmare-scape, completely in italics. You're welcome.**_

* * *

_Where was he? Crona didn't recognize this place, but it made him tense as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end._

_He was in huge room with black walls and a crimson floor. No windows. No doors._

_How did he even get here? If there was no doors, then how?_

_He couldn't even see the other end of the room because the lighting was faulty. There was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering and buzzing._

_He was alone._

_Right?_

_He had to be._

_Alone._

_In a room he can't escape._

_So glanced down at his boots, when did he start standing? Wasn't he sitting a minute ago?_

_Hesitantly, he took a step forward, his boot clicking against the floor. Then another step, more panicked and rushed._

_Escape._

_He needed to get out. Now._

_"H-Hey! Is anyone here?" he called out, his heart pounding. It was quiet-all he could hear was the sound of his breath._

_Where was Ragnarok? Crona couldn't summon him and the demon's presence was missing._

_He was alone._

_Maybe there was a door at the other end of the room? He couldn't see over there, but there had to be, right? How else would he have gotten here if there wasn't a door?_

_His feet moved, shuffling across the floor as he rubbed his arm timidly out of habit. There was a draft in the room, hot air brushing across his legs uncomfortably._

_Clunk._

_He frowned, glancing around-where had that noise come from?_

_"I-Is a-a-anyone t-there?" he stammered, taking another step._

_Clunk._

_A thought stuck him and he swallowed thickly, trying to keep calm._

_He was not alone._

_It was hot. Sweltering humid. So was he sweating out of fear or because of the heat?_

_Biting his lip, he took another step toward the other end of the room. If he could just hurry and get there, he'd be safe._

_Clunk._

_His throat was dry. His hand went up to his collar, pulling at it nervously as his breath became heavy and pained. How was he tired already?_

_"Urk!" a squeamish squeak came from his mouth as his stomach twisted painfully. His hand went up from his collar, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was drenched in sweat-but how? When did that happen? Crona panted, his voice rough and cracked, "H-Hello? A-Anybody?"_

_One more step. He could do that, right?_

_Clunk._

_Behind him! Yes, that was where the noise was coming from! He swilveled in his spot, his head spinning._

_"Oof!" he winced when he hit something hard and cold, stepping back to balance himself._

_Clunk._

_His gaze flicked to the sound, a pair of black boots in front of him. And those boots were connected to a pair of legs, covered in long white socks. The hem of a long robe, the end worn from constant running and moving. Then he shrunk back, finally looking up._

_Eyes. That was the first thing he noticed. Their eyes. They were black, pure nothingness, pulsing with blood lust. It was a person-a person with a tight smile; sunken, hollow cheeks; a messy mob of uneven pink hair with a strong, heavy sword at their side._

_He stepped back again._

_Clunk._

_The person, the doppelganger, stepped closer to him and closed the distance that Crona made when he stepped back._

_"W-W-Who are y-you?" he asked, his voice quivering. They looked exactly like him, but that was impossible-he was the only him, right? No, they didn't look exactly identical. As he searched the doppelganger for details, anything that would prove this-this thing false, he realized that the only difference was that it was younger than he was. Not much, maybe six months, a year at most, but it was scrawnier then his current state._

_It's smile twisted cruelly as it replied confidently, "Pass."_

_"W-What a-are you?" he stuttered, it was close to him-so close he could smell its cold, stale breath._

_It swung its sword casually, a murderous glint in its eye. This was no reflection-it breathed, it lived, it was him._

_"Pass," it repeated, flicking its sword to his throat, poking Crona roughly in the neck. Then, his neck felt cold and wet where it had poked him. Why?_

_"Why don't you join me?" a voice hissed, bouncing off of the room's walls. It had come from the other end of the room, where he had been trying to get to. Although Crona stood stiffly, wide-eyed, the doppelganger remained unaffected by the other voice. "Doesn't that sound so much better than dieing, Crona?"_

_"Who a-are you?" Crona whispered, his hand touching the wet spot on his neck. When he pulled his hand away, he glanced at his fingers. Each one was covered in a cold black liquid-his blood._

_The doppelganger opened its mouth, as if it was going to answer his question, but closed it again. It grinned, taking its sword and tapped Crona's shoulder. But it didn't remove the blade, instead poking into his skin._

_"You don't remember me?" the voice laughed, a merciless sound that made him grimace. His shoulder ached, hot pain screaming at him where that damn sword was cutting him. Slow footsteps clicked on the floor from the other side of the room as the voice snickered, "But isn't it such a sad thing when a child doesn't remember his mother's voice?"_

_A figure stepped out of the shadows behind the doppelganger, moving to the side so Crona could see her clearly._

_Lady Medusa._

_There she was, in her own body, grinning with open arms, "So, Crona-will you join me?"_

_His voice was caught in his throat, why couldn't he move? The doppelganger poked its sword in deeper and he winced in agony. He needed to move-but he was frozen to the spot._

_"N-No."_

_Lady Medusa narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. Lowering her arms, she crossed them over his chest, "I'm sorry, did I hear you incorrectly?"_

_"Now, Crona!" another voice bellowed into the room. Now what? Did he need to make a decision to escape this-to escape her?_

_"P-Please, d-don't m-m-make me leave f-friends, L-Lady M-M-Medusa," he pleaded, his hands clenching into fists at his sides._

_She nodded to the doppelganger, throwing a disapproving look at him._

_It smiled, digging the blade further. Then, slowly, it dragged the blade down his arm, tearing and cutting at him._

_"NRGH!" he closed his eyes, a cry erupting from the back of his throat. Dammit, that hurt! He needed Ragnarok, then he'd know what to do! When he opened his eyes, spots danced in his vision. He looked at her, a whimper as he begged her, "No! I d-don't want to!"_

_"You may as well give in to the hell inside your head, dear," she sighed, stepping toward him. Comfortingly, she placed a hand on the shoulder that the doppelganger wasn't trying to shred. "You can't fight this forever. So join me."_

_"Who's there?! Show yourself!" the voice bellowed again._

_Wait, what?_

_Show himself? Didn't the voice already see him? Was it toying with him? Mocking him?_

_The voice, he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Unlike the Lady's voice, this voice bounced from every direction in the room._

_"Please! D-Don't m-make me leave t-them!" he quivered. He felt cold now. Strange. He felt too warm a minute ago. "I c-can't!"_

_"Yes, you can. You know you can. You know you want to. You know you need to, otherwise why would you be here?" she smiled warmly, squeezing his shoulder. Didn't she care how his other arm was aching, screeching in pain? "Your blood is black. You want to use it to heal yourself, don't you, Crona? Don't you want to fight beside me again? Your own mother?"_

_"Come on out, Crona!" the voice shouted again. So it recognized him now? Although the voice seemed different, like its pitch was higher now._

_"No! I c-can't!" he shut his eyes again, trying to step away. Something wet and hot rolled down his cheek. "I can't! I just can't!"_

_"You're crying. How pathetic," she growled as a soft noise sounded, like footsteps moving away from him. "And here I thought you could still be useful."_

_"Open this door right now, Crona!" the voice shouted, louder this time and the room shook at the noise._

_"No!" he screamed as he saw her retreating back into the darkness of the other side of the room. The doppelganger moved so that it blocked his view of her, pushing the blade further down his arm. "Don't leave me again!"_

_"What? Don't leave you? You helped them kill me, remember?" she snarled, stepping so far he couldn't see her anymore. "Why would I stay for such a disobedient child?"_

_Clunk._

_The doppelganger stepped closer, pressing so close that its chest touched his own. It grinned, "Another soul, Ragnarok. But he seems a bit-unimpressive. Like the little one."_

_"Are you listening?! Open up!" the voice yelled, angry about something. Was it upset he wasn't dead?_

_The doppelganger's grin was sickening as it licked its lips, raising its sword over his head for a final blow, "Lady Medusa said I have to kill him, so if I don't she'll be mad at me. And I don't know how to deal with her being mad at me."_

_As it swung the sword down, a bizarre series of events occurred. The doppelganger seemed slow but Crona was shaking too violently with fear to move away, even if it would save his life._

_"NOW, CRONA!" the voice screeched, and Crona's other arm flew in front of his face to try and block the blow. As he glanced at the arm that was aching, his eyes widened at how his sleeve was ripped, torn to shreds. But it was covered in a black ooze-his blood._

_But it was the fact he could see the torn muscle and cracked bone that sickened him._

_"OPEN! UP! NOW!" the voice screamed, a loud bang preceding it. The doppelganger's sword pushed at Crona's arm, moving it out of the way as the blade hit the top of his head. "ARGH!"_

* * *

_**AAAAAAND back to Crona's room. Benji's mad that the nightmare didn't have nearly enough bloody gore, but he didn't want to make peeps mad. He's such a violent little boy, ain't he?**_

* * *

"ARGH!" the door of his room flung open, a blonde devil rolling onto the floor and fell face-first on the ground.

Was he still dreaming?

He sat upright, clenching his blanket close to his body as he gawked at the person. His heart pounded and he felt so wet, how was he covered in so much sweat? So he screamed, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Patti glanced up off of the floor and saw him, forgetting the entire reason she was there and screamed with him, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHH- Wait, what are we doing?" she shook herself off, jumping up to her feet. "No worries, Crona! It's just me!"

He shut his mouth suddenly, throwing his blanket over his head. Hastily, he tried to create a protective cocoon to hide from his invader as he whimper pathetically.

Patti cocked her head to the side, confused at the strange person. Skipping over to him, she lifted the blanket off of him easily and grinned, "Heya! You don't need to be so scared, heh, it's not like I'm gonna eat ya or something."

He stared at her, trying to back away from her as much as he could. But she took his hesitance as an opportunity to grab his arm and yank him off the bed.

"Oof!" he groaned, glaring darkly at her feet.

"But I got you something to eat!" she snickered at her joke, tapping the hem of her hat. Then she looked down at him, confused. "What'da you still doing on the floor? Come on!"

"Erk!" Crona grunted in pain as she yanked him back up to his feet. "W-Why a-are y-y-you h-here, P-Patti?"

"I just told you, silly! I've got something for you to eat!" Patti giggled as if this were the most obvious thing since when she was explaining to Kid about Mr. and Mrs. Giraffe.

"Um...W-Where is i-it?"

"Where is what?"

"T-The f-f-food."

"Oh!" Patti clapped her hands together and ran outside to grab a small bowl of now cold pasta. "Here ya go! It was nice and toasty warm, but it took so long to open your door I think it got cold."

"O-Okay, it's a-alright, P-Patti" he held out his hand to take the bowl from her, but she seemed to forget that she was supposed to actually give him his lunch. Should he be talking her? He barely knew her, so they weren't friends or anything. In fact, he's never talked to her until right now.

She stood there, wavering of her feet as she looked him over. The bowl of pasta was still in her hands, tightly in her grasp. Crona's hair looked weird. It was always funky looking like someone attacked him with scissors while he slept, but he was covered in sweat so it was sticking every which way. And he seemed pale. Or paler than usual. How did he accomplish that? She leaned closer to him, narrowing her eyes, "Hey, what happened?"

"Hm? W-What d-d-do y-you mean?"

"You're all sweaty and stuff."

"Oh, that?" he glanced away from her awkwardly, leaning away from her. Maybe he should tell her about his dream? Maka always said it helped to tell someone stuff like that, but he didn't really know her. So he bit his lip as he decided, "It's n-nothing."

"You know, you're a bad liar," she smirked, moving the bowl of pasta so she could hold it in one hand. Then, the evilest grin appeared on her face, "And you know what happens to liars? The wet willy fairy give them a visit!"

With that being her opening line, she popped a finger in her mouth and pulled it out slowly. Her finger was covered in saliva, the spit slowly dripping down into her palm. Crona stepped back toward Mr. Corner. Where was Ragnarok when he needed him?

"Come on, Crona. What's up?" she took dramatic steps toward him, the bowl of pasta wobbling unsteadily in her other hand. "You can tell me! I promise not to tell, so come on-tell me! Or do you want a wet willy?"

He leaned into Mr. Corner, sliding down the wall so he was sitting on the floor. He shut his eyes tight as he whimpered, "O-Okay! F-Fine!"

"Yay! Goodie for everybody, cuz I don't really wanna stick my finger in your ear. No offense," she giggled, wiping her hand on her shorts. Jumping down in front of him, she dropped the bowl of pasta, which spilled onto the floor, but didn't notice as she put on her 'serious' face. But it looked she was constipated. "Sooooooo! What's up!"

"Like that's any of you damn business!" Ragnarok snarled, popping out but considering that Crona's back was pressed into Mr. Corner, the demon was slammed harshly into the wall on his way out. "Dammit, Crona! Can't you sit anywhere else?"

"Don't yell at him!" she huffed, leaning closer to glare at the other weapon. "I was just wondering!"

"I'll yell at him when I friggin' feel like it!" Ragnarok scowled, pointing a fist at her. "And what's it to ya if Crona has a bad dream or two?!"

Seriously, Ragnarok?

"Oh! Is that it?" she looked down at him, and smiled warmly. "That's okay! I get get bad dreams sometimes too! Like last Monday, I had this scary nightmare that all the giraffes in the whole world assembled on Kid's lawn but they were all angry so they started beating each other up and then the giraffe in charge, General Spots, declared Giraffe War III and all the giraffes started picking sides, even this handsome one with the most awesome mustache and funny hat with this plus sign looking thing, but it wasn't! But his name was Dolfie Hiker! And he started hurting all the giraffes that had spots shaped like a 'J' and Kid got so mad cuz the giraffes weren't fighting symmetrically on the lawn and he took this big cannon outside but Dolfie Hiker made Kid a human slave! Yeah, and then he made Kid tap dance on this yellow brick road! And then Sis got out these blow dryers to try and blow the giraffes away, but they made her a slave too and they had her dance in the rain! Which wouldn't be so bad, but her mascara wasn't waterproof! So then I had to hid in Lord Death's alcohol cellar while the giraffes searched the house for more slaves and I tasted this one bottle cuz it said it was grape juice but it wasn't, it was beer! Can you believe it?! Beer!"

Crona frowned, confused as Ragnarok leaned back, wondering what the hell was wrong with this girl. She had to be pulling their leg, right? No one was this hyper, right? Or random.

Then Patti grinned, pointing to herself, "But I'm fine now! See? The angry human-enslaving giraffes were just a dream!"

"Uh huh," Ragnarok stared at her, dumbfounded as Crona. "Don't you someplace to go or something to do?"

"Oh, yeah!" she clapped her hands, Black*Star and Tsubaki! She had to visit them still and tell them about Lord Death's mission! "I guess I do! Well, see you later!"

Then she leaned close to him, hugging him tightly before skipping out of the door, leaving Crona to a bowl of ruined pasta all over the floor. His door was broken. Great. What didn't she break on her way here?

Crona just sat there, still frozen from the with Ragnarok still scowling at where the door should be. The demon huffed, hitting Crona on the head before popping back into Crona, "Come on, those noodles are gonna get dirty if you let 'em stay of the floor."

"O-Okay," Crona slowly crawled over to the bowl and began to clean up the mess.

"Well, I never thought I would see the day I said this but," Ragnarok scoffed from inside Crona's bloodstream. "I think I'd prefer even Maka to that freak."

* * *

_**Dolfie Hiker? Hm...I wonder who that is. Wait. BENJI! Why do you get to use Adolf Hitler jokes and I can't talk in the third person?! Time?! You want the friggin time?! Death Manor, 5 p.m. There! NOW LEAVE ME BE!**_

* * *

"Well, bye!" Liz waved at the car that was driving away from the Death mansion. "Thanks for the great date, Chad!"

Liz walked to the locked door and searched her new purse for her keys. After several minutes of searching, she remembered that she had to purchased a new set of keys because she had to use her old pair to pry Patti's cell phone from the garbage disposal system.

She groaned and looked at the perfectly symmetrical welcome mat for a key, why didn't Kid leave at least a spare key somewhere in case of something like this? She decided to just knock on the door and hope Kid or Patti was home, but was surprised to find the door was unlocked the entire time.

As Liz stepped in, she immediately saw pieces of what she guessed used to measuring tape all over the floor, each piece exactly eight centimeters long and in eight piles of eight pieces, which could only mean-

"Perfectly symmetrical! Oh, how I've searched my whole life for something so beautiful!" Kid's voice called out from upstairs, probably in his room fangirling over something stupid.

Liz put her purse on the couch and decided to see what on earth that could be so amazing in Kid's mind, so she walked up the stair and down the hall to his room.

"All these years of searching for the answer, and I've finally done it! It's perfect!" Kid exclaimed behind his door.

She opened the door, not bothering to knock since she never did anyway, to see Kid prancing around the room. Liz felt her jaw drop to the floor as she watched Kid started to dance in his overjoyed state (in a symmetrical way, of course). But his terrible impression of pop dancing wasn't what Liz was gawking at.

"What. The. Hell.," she gasped, her hands flying her her mouth. Her life was perfectly normal ten minutes ago, but what had happened?

"Liz! You're home!" Kid grinned, stopping mid-prance. "I expect you had a good time?"

"...the hell?" Liz whispered and pointed to Kid's hair...or lack of it. "Kid, you're bald!"

"No, not bald. I cut it off," Kid explained as he motion to his dresser where a pile of black and white hair sat with a pair of scissors. He put one of one his pale hand on his squeaky smooth scalp, "I had a nasty cowlick and those disgusting stripes. Now that I've shaven my head, I feel like I could do anything! I'm perfectly symmetrical!"

"K-Kid," Liz gulped as she looked him with concerned eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to school like that-"

"Why wouldn't I?" Kid smiled and went back to prancing around his room. "Everyone should see how amazing I look now that I'm symmetrical!"

"Oh goodie," Liz groaned and mumbled under her breath to herself, "Well, at least your hair grows fast since you're a shinigami."

"Hm? Don't worry about that, Liz! I plan on cutting it every day to keep it just like this!" Kid was grinning so wide Liz was surprised his face didn't split in two. He skipped over to the dresser and held up the scissors, "And you know, I could help you and your hair if its asymmetrical."

When Kid turned around, Liz was already gone, running down the hall and slamming her door shut to lock it behind her. Kid looked confused for a moment as he set the scissors back down.

"Oh well, I guess. It's her loss." Kid shrugged and then went back to his prancing.

* * *

_***Music starts* Everybody prance now! Setting: Freedom or Croak cafe. Time: Daytime. Okay, it's like 5:30 p.m. Calm down.**_

* * *

"Order for table five!" Eruka shouted from behind the counter, scribbling down orders at the cash register before handing them off to Free to make them.

"Com'in!" Rushing over to the prepared meal, Black*Star groaned. Why did the dinner hour have to be so busy?!

He grabbed the meal and made his way to table five. No matter how closely he watched his bosses, it seemed like they wouldn't slip up and spill. Well, their secrets. Free was constantly slipping and spilling crap.

No one could change just like that, right? Black*Star was certain that if he kept this job, one of them would goof and say what ever they were planning to him. He really wanted to quit the job, but he needed the money to pay Lord Death and of course, he felt like he was undercover or something. It was a fun feeling. Black*Star: Ninja, God, and now a spy!

And it was better than fighting with Tsubaki. Not that he wanted to fight with her or anything, but just being in the same room felt awkward and tense, like they were both ticking time bombs ready to explode. Every day, he's left the apartment early before Tsubaki would wake up and didn't come back until late that night. Avoiding the problem wasn't necessary right, but he didn't want to confront it until he had the solution.

Each day it seemed the fights got bigger and worse, and Black*Star didn't want to think about what would happen if they kept going like this. He didn't want to ask for help, though. He was going to surpass the gods one day, so he didn't need help, right?

"Hey, kid!" an annoyed middle-aged woman glared up at Black*Star, sitting in a chair by the window at table five. "Are you going to give me my food or are you going to just stand there?!"

"Oh," Black*Star mumbled and handed the lady her food shyly. "Here you go ma'am. Sorry for the wait."

The lady checked her food and then glared at Black*Star. She simply waved him off and began eating her dinner.

Black*Star sighed and walked back over to where Free stood behind the counter, making the next table's order. Black*Star pulled over one of the stools to the counter to sit down.

"What's got ya down, dude?"

"Huh?" Black*Star looked up to see Free looking at him curiously while he poured some pink lemonade. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing. That lady over there was yellin' at you for a good ten minutes before you came back down to earth." sitting down the drink, Free smirked. This made Black*Star roll his eyes. Eruka had said they needed to be more friendly to each other. Or at least put up a show in front of the customers. "So tell me what's up. I'm all ears."

Black*Star bit the inside of his cheek, conflicted. He could tell Free, but he was his boss and he could tell somebody. But on the other hand, he could finally get this off of his chest and get some advice in the process. Besides, who was Free going to tell beside Eruka? It's not like the two of them were technically in hiding. Oh wait, they were.

He sighed and decided to tell Free in a more subtle way, "Meh, girl trouble."

"Ah, I see," Free gave Black*Star a knowing smile. "Well, what about 'em?"

"Umm...you see," Black*Star stuttered, fumbling his thumbs, unaware that he was blushing. "I have this friend who's been fighting with one of their friends lately. Everything I-he says anything to her it comes out wrong and he really cares for her and stuff so he doesn't want to fight with her or anything but he feels really weird around her and-."

"Huh?" Free looked at Black*Star, confused by the long and complex speech. "Well, it kinda sounds like this friend of yours has it tough."

"Um...yeah," Black*Star rubbed the back of his head. "I guess you could say that."

"Well," Free scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It also kinda sounds like this friend of yours has a crush on their friend."

"W-What?!" Black*Star stammered, his face flushed red from anger, not anything else because Free certainly couldn't be right! "You think I have a crush on Tsubaki?!"

"What are you talking about? I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about this friend of yours!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Free huffed as an awkward moment passed over the two of them. Apparently, Black*Star overestimated Free's ability to catch on to stuff.

Chime!

An elderly man walked in through the door and tipped his hat to Eruka, who greeted him cheerfully. He wore a business suit and he looked familiar to Black*Star since he was pretty sure the man came in every day around this time, but Black*Star had never actually talked to him since the man always ordered his food to-go.

"Hey, Free, who is-" Black*Star wondered and looked over at his boss to see Free growling, seething with anger and baring his teeth toward the man just the tiniest bit. "Whoa, dude, what's up with you?"

"Stupid Tom," Free grumbled and clenched his fists as his face started to get the vaguest red on his face.

"Dude, seriously what's-" Black*Star waved his hand in front of Free's face but received no response. Suddenly, a devious idea came into his mind and Black*Star grinned at the thought of getting back at his boss for embarrassing him earlier for making such an inaccurate and stupid accusation. "Why, Mr. Free, don't tell me you're jealous of some old man, are you?"

"What?!" Free blinked and then turned his attention back to Black*Star, glaring daggers. "I'm not jealous of Tom, I just don't trust that creep!"

"Uh huh," Black*Star rolled his eyes and looked over at the kind, old man. "Yeah, creepy, huh?"

"Yeah!" Free huffed and smacked his hand down to powerfully and the vibrations shook the pots and pans sitting on top of cabinet behind Free to fall. The heavy objects hit Free on the head, effectively knocking him out cold. The last one, a small mixing bowl, knocked off the glass of pink lemonade, causing both to spill/hit Free.

"Uh..." Black*Star sat there in the stool, watching his boss groan and feel the red, tender spot on the back of his head.

"Here!" an ice pack slid down the counter from Eruka, who tiredly looked over at Free. "Give this to him *Ribbit* Does he need me to call down an ambulance?"

"Nah, I think he'll be fine," Black*Star rolled his eyes as he tossed the ice pack down to Free, but the pack hit Free in the head on the tender spot, so Free fell unconscious yet again.

Why did he even bother asking Free for advice? If anything, Free was the one who need advice. Black*Star was 100% positive that Tom wasn't some creep, Free was jealous of an old guy, there was something up between his bosses, and that he did NOT have a crush on Tsubaki.

Maybe Eruka would have better advice for him...Nah, Black*Star was better off just keeping this to himself.

He didn't need help.

Now I want some lemonade. Uh...Black*Star &amp; Tsubaki's apartment. Same time-5:30 p.m. You ready to read some emo?! You know I am!

Maybe she should apologize. This had gone on long enough. Ever since the battle with Asura, they've been fighting like this and it wasn't in her nature to fight with her meister.

Tsubaki sighed as she flicked through the channels on the television in her and Black*Star's apartment. Black*Star had left before she woke up and left, probably to play basketball with Soul.

She could ask someone for help or at least some advice, but Black*Star didn't want the others to know about these fights, so she kept her mouth shut as well.

Last night was another big one, she could feel it in her soul. Maybe Black*Star didn't mean anything by what he said, but it hurt nonetheless. And she wasn't any better, either. All of this started with one tiny argument about how Black*Star didn't' need to put himself in any more danger than was required from him.

She understood that their jobs as students at the DWMA were dangerous, and she accepted that. What they did was for the better cause, and if they both got injured fighting on a mission, so be it. But Black*Star running about town, destroying things without thought to his own personal being was another matter.

Black*Star wasn't wrong, though. She was probably worrying too much about him, but she couldn't help it. It's like he intentionally throws himself in danger just to become stronger. Tsubaki wished that the fights were as small as that first one. Now they were complex and devastating. If they went on like this, they wouldn't be able to resonate anymore.

Tsubaki got up from the couch she slept on yet again last night to avoid another argument and went to the kitchen area to prepare some food for Black*Star for when he came back home.

As she got out ingredients to make some steamed rice, she mused to herself.

They hadn't had a mission since the battle with Asura, so it wouldn't surprise her if she and Black*Star weren't able to resonate by now. It was a sadistic thought, but it was true.

Maybe she should apologize, but in somewhere unknown inside of her soul, pride she didn't know she had kept her from ending the fights, telling her that she needed to stand up for herself.

And that was what the fight last night was mostly about. Black*Star yelled at her about how she never stood up to other people, and she yelled at him about how he never let her stand up for herself, always there behind her like an overprotective parent teaching their child to walk, never letting them fall on their own to taste failure and learn from their mistakes.

She put the finished rice in the microwave for Black*Star to eat later and she looked over at the television. On the screen was now playing some action movie, the main character fighting with the antagonist on the edge of a cliff with only their fists.

Yes, she should probably apologize, but she wasn't going to. She was going to stand up for this, something that mattered to her. And if she fell in the process and got hurt, so be it. Then she could learn from her own mistakes.

And yes, she did worry too much about Black*Star, but she couldn't stop herself from caring about him. He was Black*Star, the one who would surpass the gods, and she was his weapon partner. Her sole purpose was to protect him at any cost. Not the other way around.

* * *

**Hm...**

**Steve: Adolf Hitler? Really?**

**Me: Yes. You laughed and you know it.**

**Steve: Besides the point!**

**Me: Oh, go drink your bag of milk.**

**Steve: Already doing that, Benji.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kant**


	12. Pimples and Suspense

**Chapter 12! Yes! Hahahaha! Finally! Y'all don't understand how great I feel that all of this dang editing crap is done! YES!...but now I hafta go write chapter 13. From scratch. Hm...I don't know what's going to be about yet...**

**Oh well, it'll come to me, right?**

* * *

**I own nothing but myself, my ideals, and my personal possessions, which include the laptop I'm typing this out on, but not Soul Eater or anything else mentioned.**

* * *

_**The underground classroom. Two days after the last chapter: Sunday at 7 p.m. Great! Steve, signing out!**_

* * *

"Professor?" Crona frowned, staring at Professor Stein from his side of the table of their 'classroom.' His hands were folded neatly in his lap as he glanced beside the table at a pile of things, unorganized from the lack of the usual duffel bag. Apparently, Miss Marie had taken it early this morning before the professor could get a hold of it.

"Yes?" he pressed his mouth together in thought, as if he was listening to something. But the room was completely silent.

"Aren't we going to do something?" Crona chose his words carefully, trying to listen too. Maybe the professor brought the snake today?

"Oh. Yeah," he bent over to shuffle though his things, his hands going to the snake's mobile cage which was covered in a huge gray cover. Crona's heart lifted up-maybe he was going to get to play with her today? But when Professor Stein lifted the cover, there was no snake waiting inside. Only an empty can, a water dish, and a lot of straw bedding. The professor squinted, cursing under his breath, "Well, that's just great. You know what? How about we practice your ability to hold a full conversation."

"Okay?" he replied, did the professor lose the snake? He hoped not-he liked playing with her.

"So have you decided upon a name for her yet?" Professor Stein leaned back into his chair, twisting the screw in his head.

"Excuse me, s-sir?"

"The snake. Have you picked out a name for her yet?"

"Oh. N-No. Not y-yet," he fumbled with the collar of his gown, looking down at his boots. "There's s-so many names and I w-want her name to be p-perfect."

"I know the _perfect_ name for that little parasite!" Ragnarok burst out of Crona, glaring at the two of them. "You should name it 'His Majesty, Admiral General Haffez Aladeen Madafaka, the Magnificent, Supreme Leader of All Leaders on the Earth, Vice-Kings of Kings, Democratic President-for-Life, Invincible and all triumphant Commander Chief Ophthalmologist, Brilliant Genius of Humanity, Excellent Swimmer including Butterfly, and Beloved Oppressor and Ruthless Protector of the Precious and Expandable People of Wadiya, son of President-for-Life of the Wadiyan Republic Omar Aladeen!'"

"What?" the professor gawked, his brow scrunched in confusion. Then, he shook his head, "One, it's a girl. Two, that name is just too long. Three, why did you have so much time to yourself to think of a name like that? And most importantly, four, it's Crona's decision, not yours."

"He's never going to pick a name at this rate!" the demon thwacked his meister on the head. "And who are you to say that Crona doesn't like that name? Huh?!"

"Ragnarok, I don't like that name," Crona sighed, watching Professor Stein bend over again to pull a thin machine from the pile of junk. "It's too wordy. I don't' even remember half of what you said just then, so how am I to r-remember the full thing later?"

"See?" Stein put the machine on the table, opened it up, and pushed a button to turn it on. "Crona doesn't like that name."

Indignantly, the demon disappeared as he grumbled to himself.

Crona stared in horror as the professor's face was illuminated by a blue glow coming from the machine. The sleek box on the table made a whirling noise, then tapping and clicking. What magic was this?!

"Hm?" Professor Stein glanced up from his laptop to see Crona slack jawed and cleared his throat. "Oh. I have to put in some grades on the school's website for some students. See?"

So the professor turned the machine around so Crona could view its screen, clicking on the internet icon. He typed in the school's URL and moved the mouse icon to show Crona what he was doing. But Crona continued to stare in terror as he scooted his chair was far away as he could manage to escape the devil machine. The blue light turned white and the letters 'D.W.M.A.' read across the screen while a treacherous pointing arrow pulled things across the machine!

"Crona?" the professor asked cautiously, turning the laptop back toward himself. "Are you alright?"

As he said this, the computer played a high-pitched tune, an alert that he had received an email.

"What witchcraft is this?!" Crona screeched, jumping from his chair and leaped to hide in the nearest corner. He rocked himself, hugging his arms around his legs as Ms. Corner (Mr. Corner's younger sister) protected him as he mumbled to himself about how he didn't know how to deal with witchcraft.

"Wah? Gah! Crona, it's fine! Nothing bad happened! Geez!" Professor Stein slapped the computer shut, but it made another noise to signal its owner that it was logging off. Which didn't exactly help Crona. "It's not witchcraft, alright? It's a computer. Haven't you seen a computer before?"

But Crona didn't answer directly to the professor, muttering about the dark magic present in the room.

"Oh, joy," he sighed, maybe he was being too hard on Crona? Maybe she-he-_it_ had not seen very advanced things when _it_ was with that witch-but that left the professor to teach all of this. Not all of it. No, that would take years, but he had to make sure that when Crona saw an escalator for the first time that _it_ didn't pee _itself_. So he shuffled through his pile, pulling out a thick book to put on the table. "Hey, Crona? It's alright-here, come on over here and I'll show you these poetry books I brought with me today."

"P-P-Poetry?" Crona glanced up at the professor suspiciously, trying to weight the cons against the pros of leaving Ms. Corner's safety.

"Yes, Crona, poetry. I brought in Shakespeare today. You like Shakespeare, don't you?" he smiled warmly. It was now that Professor Stein finally understood how hard it must be for the Thompson sister to take care of someone as neurotic as Kid. He had to watch Crona for only a couple of hours a day, yet it felt like another full-time job. "So come over here."

"A-A-Alright, i-if y-you s-say s-s-so," Crona started to get up, hearing poetry was better then sulking in Ms. Corner, right? It had to be! Poetry fixed everything! As he finally stood as his feet, the _computer_, as Professor Stein had called it, made a loud beeping sound and Crona squeaked as he fell back into the loving arms of Ms. Corner with a thud, "Eep!"

As Crona went back to rocking himself back and forth, Professor Stein sighed. The laptop had simply re-booted, installed its updates, and was now waiting to be logged on by a user. But he flipped the book open, "Or I'll just read it to you from there, whatever floats your boat."

"No! N-No m-m-more m-magic!" Crona yelled, louder than the professor had ever heard him speak.

First, glowing magically boxes, now boats that floated in mid-air?! Where was Professor Stein getting all of these dark items?!

"Crona, it's not magic."

"W-Witchcraft!"

"...It's also not witchcraft."

"_OOOOOOOOOOOOH_!" Ragnarok took that exact moment to reappear and do his best ghost impression just as Stein pulled out his book, making Crona nearly pee himself from fright. "WHAHAHAHA! You're so gullible, you twerp! That's what you get! HA!"

* * *

_**Was that fun enough for you? Did you laugh? Cuz Steve didn't. Yep, Steve is gonna talk in third-person again. Benji can just go fudge himself for all Steve cares. Next scene: Maka and Soul's apartment also at 7 p.m.**_

* * *

"Soul, clean this mess up!" Maka scowled as she hurriedly cleaned the apartment while attempting to cook dinner. "NOW!"

"Meh?" Soul poked his head out of his room before cautiously treading to the living room, watching for a certain perverted cat. He looked at the room, which was so clean it was literally sparkling, and gave Maka a curious look, "Why?"

"I forgot to tell you, but I invited everybody over for dinner since Black*Star and Tsubaki are coming back from their mission tonight," Maka drawled as she stirred the stew on the stove with one hand and wiped the counter with her other hand. "So hurry up and clean before they get here."

"Well, thanks for the heads-ups," Soul rolled his eyes sarcastically before pinching the bridge of his nose. "What is there left to clean, anyway? I can see my reflection on the floor, Maka. And it's carpet."

"Ha ha, very funny," Maka sighed and handed him the spoon from the stew before using her full attention to clean the nonexistent mess. He walked over to her, slowly. Maybe if he took long enough, he wouldn't have to do anything. "If you want to be that way, at least stir the soup and stay out of my way."

"It's stew, not soup." Soul smiled smugly as he put in spices in the pot of food when Maka turned away from him. "There's a difference, you know."

"No there isn't. It's all the same: Hot liquid in a bowl."

"Okay, first, by that definition if I put hot water in a bowl, it's stew according to you. Second, stew is thicker than soup and usually has more vegetables in it."

"Just shut up and stir the soup."

"It's stew, Maka. Stew is not soup."

Soul snickered when he answered by silence and he put the now finished stew on the coffee table that they used to eat off of instead of buying a dinner table. He was getting some small bowls out for everyone to use later just as the door was rammed open by not other than-

"HELLO EVERBODY! You can clap your hands and cheer because your god has arrived!" Black*Star grinned from the open doorway with Tsubaki right behind him, both looking rather worse for the wear and covered in random scratches and bruises from their mission.

"MAKA CHOP!" The twelfth edition of William Shakespeare's biography was slammed into the skull of the blue haired monkey at a force strong enough to nearly knock him unconscious. Maka brandished the thick book in front of him with her eye twitching, "Black*Star, it isn't polite to just barge into people's homes!"

"My apologies, Maka," Tsubaki sighed and slowly stepped around him before nodding politely to Maka. "He's still a bit excitable from the mission."

"Considering it's Black*Star, it's understandable." Maka smiled before motioning for everyone to sit on the couches. Soul merely grunted and remained in the kitchen to search for something in the refrigerator. "Speaking of which, how'd the assignment go?"

Maka could've sworn that she saw Tsubaki grimace when she asked that, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. Tsubaki quickly waved off the question and gave Maka a tight smile, "Ah, it went alright. Thank you for inviting us over for dinner, Maka. It was really nice of you and Soul."

"Yep. Cuz I totally knew about this beforehand," Soul scoffed with his head in the freezer section of the refrigerator. "Oi, Maka! Where's my soda?"

"You drank it all yesterday while you were 'drinking to forget' Blair." Maka rolled her eyes before looking at Tsubaki curiously. Why had she changed the subject?

She was just about to ask when someone knock on the door exactly eight times. Kid, Liz, and Patti came in accordingly just as the clock stuck eight o'clock.

Liz seemed to shrink away from Kid as she fumbled with her light brown hair and Patti acted unaware of the gawks and stares of everyone as she skipped into the room.

"Good evening, everyone," Kid smiled as he broke the awkward silence the three had created when they entered the room. He plopped on the couch cheerfully with Liz standing behind him and Patti welcoming herself to some of the soup-er..stew in the kitchen.

"...Holy death of Excalibur," Black*Star breathed out as he squinted at a certain shiny scalp.

"Wah?"

"Woah, dude. Not cool."

"...Er.. Why?" Maka's eye twitched again as she resisted the urge to touch Kid's head just to make sure that she was seeing correctly. Was it just her, or was Kid freaking bald?!

"Um..." Liz grimaced behind Kid and scratched the back of her head. She swallowed thickly, refusing to meet the confused gazes of everyone, and whistled suspiciously, "So~ Nice weather we're having, huh?"

"Yes, the weather has been just delightful," clapping his hands together, Kid grinned and nodded toward Black*Star and Tsubaki. "I imagine your assignment went well, then? It must have been exciting. Hmm... unfortunately nothing new has happened here since your absence, though."

This...was just plain disturbing for well...everyone. Kid was being _friendly_ toward Black*Star, Liz looked scared out of her wits, and Kid was bald. And well...Patti was just being Patti, but that's usually pretty disturbing on its own.

"W-We were only gone for two days. _Two days_, Kid. And you frigging shave your damn head?!" Black*Star shouted, unable to contain his confusion any longer and jumped up on the coffee table to get in Kid's face. What on earth possessed Kid to make him shave his head?

Kid furrowed his brow and looked at Black*Star curiously, "Black*Star, my dear friend, there's no need for such foul language. I simply cut my hair to preserve perfect symmetry."

"What the hell is frigging wrong with you, you damn son of a monkey?! You look like a frigging freak with your damn head like that!" Black*Star screamed, shaking in anger. People in England could probably hear him at this point. "Two frigging days, Kid! WHY?!"

At that point, Tsubaki promptly shoved Black*Star back onto the couch and gave him a pointed look, which he returned. This resulted in a short staring contest between the meister and weapon, which confused Maka further since neither of them seemed to want to talk about the assignment. For Tsubaki, that was normal, but Black*Star should be bragging even if they did horrible about how a big star he was (and is). What was she missing here?

Soul took this as his cue to ask the fatal question that his fallen brother in arms had nearly gotten the answer to and he abandoned the refrigerator to poke Kid on top of his shiny head, "Dude, seriously. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"W-What? Nothing is wrong with me! Why do you people keep accusing me of such a thing?!" Kid huffed, scowling. "I was simply preserving symmetry! Is that so hard to understand?!"

Liz slumped her shoulders and sighed. She was going to have to take this into her own hands, wasn't she? "I left the him home with a pair of scissors for about five hours. When I got home, he was like this."

"Why did you leave a him with a pair of scissors?" Maka glared at Liz suspiciously.

"Why did I-? Look, I didn't know he was insane enough to flipping shave himself, okay?!" Liz grumbled, glaring at the top of Kid's head, which was so shiny that it glared right back at her. Was he waxing it or something?!

"Why are you arguing? Can't we just all get along?" Kid sympathized, WAY too off the deep end of symmetry to realize how stupid he was acting. "I am now perfectly symmetrical without that monstrosity. We should all just take a deep breath and calm down to talk about our feelings."

"How about no," Soul took a step away from Kid to return to the refrigerator to find something to drink with his stew.

"W-Well, hair or no hair, you still look nice, Kid." Tsubaki lied awkwardly, trying her hardest to not stare at Kid's head and gave a wary smile.

"*Gay*," Soul coughed, his head poking in the cool air of the refrigerator.

"MAKA CHOP!," Maka slammed the twelfth volume of Shakespeare's biography into Soul's head before smiling awkwardly at everyone. They were all staring at her, which meant she was the only one who had heard Soul's stupid comment. "Well... To be honest, Kid. You kinda look-"

"Like a homo," Black*Star finished loudly, cutting Maka off, and received glares and pointed looks. Tsubaki jabbed her elbow in his side sharply, but refused to meet his gaze when he stared questioningly at her.

"Wh-What?! I most certainly do not!" Kid set his jaw irritatedly and motioned to the top of his head. "Marsha completes my perfection! Why can none of you see this?!"

"What?" an awkward silence filled the room as everyone stared at Kid took a moment to _stroke_ his squeaky smooth head.

"Um...who's Marsha, Kid?" Liz asked uneasily, extremely disturbed as she watch Kid act so affectionately to his head. Then, without missing a beat, she understood exactly who Marsha was. "Oh dear god, Kid! Don't tell me you named your freaking head!"

"Well, why shouldn't I? Without her, I am asymmetrical garbage, Liz." Kid rubbed to top of his head, err...Marsha, and acted as if nothing was strange about him naming his scalp.

"Kid?" Soul shook himself out of his shock to look Kid straight in the eye, looking for any possibilities or signs that might indicate anything before asking, "What the hell are you smoking?"

"Yeah," Black*Star drawled, now as disturbed as Liz. "Are you high? You know, if you were so lonely that you needed attention, you could've just called the local wacky house to come pick you up."

"I'm not smoking anything. I simply cut my hair to preserve symmetry, alright? Is that so hard to understand?" Kid gave the two a serious look before slowly stroking his head again.

"Slightly off topic, but I've been giving him some hair growth formula to get his hair to grow back, you know?" Liz sighed, rolling her eyes, and stared at the back of Kid's waxed head, or Marsha. "But I don't think it's working."

"Oh, it's working," Kid turned around in his seat to look at Liz.

"But your head-"

"Wait, what?" Kid gave her a curious look. "You thought I was going use that stuff on Marsha?"

"Umm..." Liz coughed before asking the dreaded question. "Then w-where are you using it?"

"Places, Liz. Places."

"O-Okay! Stop talking!" Maka looked away in horror, her face beet red. "E-Everyone, just- just shut up!"

"You know, how about we just change the subject," Soul mumbled, his eyes still wide and jaw dropped. He took a minute to recover before nodding to Black*Star and Tsubaki, "So, how did the mission go?"

"Huh?" Black*Star scratched the back of his neck almost nervously, but then again the great Black*Star was never nervous, right? "Oh, that. Fine, I guess. Hey, is that soup ready for us to eat yet?"

"Ha! Told you so!" Maka pointed out to Soul from their earlier conversation, but didn't miss that Black*Star had changed the subject, of all people.

"Yeah, but dude, don't leave me hanging. What happened?" Soul apparently didn't get the message and continued to prod his friend more.

"Then get your god a bowl! I'm starving!" Black*Star laughed, hoping that Soul would just forget it and move on.

"Okay?" Soul got another bowl out and went over to where Patti was by the big bowl of stew on the stove to fill it, but when he looked inside he saw that it was empty. "What?"

"Something wrong, Soul?" Maka asked from the couch, still staring at both Tsubaki and Black*Star. Too bad she couldn't her soul perception didn't see into a person's secrets, or maybe that was good thing. An all-knowing Maka would be extra creepy.

"Yeah, wasn't this full earlier?"

"Yes, Soul. And isn't it full now?"

"No, it's completely dry. _Dry_. Were you hungry or something?"

"Oh!" Patti grinned innocently and wiped her mouth. "I was! The stew was yummy!"

"What?" Soul stared blankly at Patti and hoped to Death that she was just pulling his leg or something. "You mean, you ate the gallon of stew that was in here?"

"Yep!" Patti smiled and skipped over to the couch to watch television.

"Well, that's just..." Soul pinched the bridge of his nose before looking to Maka meekly. "Hey, can you-?"

"Already on it." Maka had her phone out and dialing the local pizza place. "Yeah, Pizza Hut? Maka Albarn...yeah, the usual order, but can you triple it?...Thanks."

"We eat way too much pizza. I think my blood is slowly turning into tomato sauce." Soul put the empty stew bowl into the sink to be washed later.

"You're telling me? The pizza place has our apartment number, name, pizza order, and my cell phone number memorized. It's kinda creepy!" Maka hung up the phone and stood up to help Soul wash the pot. "They said it'd be about 20 minutes or so till it gets here, though."

"Well, I guess we can just chill here until then," Black*Star leaned back on the couch, which caused Tsubaki to scoot away from Black*Star a bit.

"Yeah, but what is there to do? I mean, Patti's taken over the T.V." Soul motioned to Patti, who was sitting cross-legged and staring wide-eyed as My Little Pony played on the screen.

"I dunno. We could just talk or something. And what isn't there to talk about when your god is present?" Black*Star grinned and slowly scooted a bit closer to Tsubaki, who in turn scooted a little bit more away from Black*Star.

"We could talk about your low self-esteem." Soul joked, handing Maka a sponge and dish soap.

"Totally! And then we could talk about how uncool you are!" Black*Star bantered back at Soul as he took his chances to scoot closer to Tsubaki.

"Oof!" Tsubaki fell to the floor with a thud when she tried to scoot just a bit further away from Black*Star. She sighed and slowly stood back up to excuse herself, "Um...I just to go outside for a minute."

Once she closed the door, all eyes except Patti's for reasons already discussed landed on Black*Star. He stood up and stretched awkwardly before excusing himself, "You know, I should probably go see if she's okay. I'll be back in a minute."

"What's up with those two?" Soul asked bluntly once Black*Star was heard running down the stairs outside their apartment.

"No idea," Maka answered. She would just have to ask Tsubaki later about the assignment. "Hey, Kid?"

"Yes?" Kid looked over to Maka, still petting Marsha lovingly.

"You said you're perfectly symmetrical now, right?"

"Yes, I believe I did."

"Um..."

"What is it, Maka?" Kid tilted his head curiously.

"You're not." Maka slowly replied. Maybe she shouldn't tell him. But it was for the best, right?

"What do you mean, I'm not?" Kid scowled, his happy mode suddenly ruined.

"Y-You have a..."

"What? What is it, Maka?!" Kid folded his arms together. Liz, who was still standing behind him, was waving her arms in warning to Maka.

"You have a pimple!" Maka blurted out before turning her attention back to the giant bowl she was cleaning.

"I have a pimple?" Kid calmed down considerably, not believing this for a minute.

"Yeah," Liz mumbled and patted Kid on the back comfortingly. "I wouldn't really call it a pimple, though Kid. It's more a zit than a pimple."

"I have a zit?"

"Yes, Kid. You have a zit." Liz huffed. She turned his head around to face her and she pointed to his right cheek. "It's right there. I don't really know how you missed it this morning. You were probably too busy with 'Marsha' to notice it."

"It's SO big and red!" Patti shouted from where she was sitting, but looked confused when everyone stared at her. "Oh, I meant the apple that Rainbow Dash is eating! But Kid's face volcano is pretty big and red, too!"

Kid simply fell to the floor, sitting on his knees and looked to the ceiling before shouting to the symmetry gods above that were torturing him for their personal amusement, "NOOOOOOOO!"

"Geez, Kid! I can give you some of my acne cream if you want," Liz sighed. It was only so long before Kid got a nosebleed and passed out. "As long as you promise to use it in the appropriate places."

"GAH! I thought I told you guys to shut up! EW!"

* * *

_**Heh. Benji's pissed that anime/manga peeps never have acne, but he doesn't either, so I dunno why he's talking. But he twitched so much writing that scene when he was writing those cuss words. God, he's such a prude. He'll write blood and gore with this big old grin, but bring up sex or something and he's all "What the hell?" on the inside, cuz he doesn't ever say the bad words, and goes and hides from you like a Crona. He thinks those bad words, but never says them. Prude! Well, scene: with Tsubaki outside the apartment.**_

* * *

She shouldn't have left like that, and she knew it. Tsubaki knew that everyone would be wondering why she just left all of a sudden, but she felt like she had to.

She was sitting outside the large apartment building on an old wooden bench under a streetlamp. It was dark outside, and it was starting to get chilly, but it was better than explaining everything to everybody inside.

Black*Star couldn't get the message, could he? Why couldn't he understand that she just wanted some space? They had come straight to Maka and Soul's apartment after reporting to Lord Death about how they had failed the assignment, so she knew that Black*Star would be coming outside to retrieve her soon, and later a fight would probably ensue between the two of them.

It was all because of that mission. She was right. _She was right_. In the heat of battle, it happened, when Black*Star needed her most. They couldn't resonate anymore. They had pushed each other to the edge, and went too far. All she could do now was hope that they could patch things up. That would be the only way they would be able to resonate again, but she wasn't about to back down and neither was Black*Star.

"Hey! Tsubaki, wait up!" she could hear Black*Star shout, his footsteps running over to her, and the glass door close itself behind him.

Refusing to meet his gaze, she stood up and contemplated leaving or staying to talk about the inevitable. Sighing, she knew that this conversation would have to take place at some point or another, so it would be better for both of them to just get it over with. "Yes, Black*Star?"

"What was that about?" he stepped in front of her to that he could see her face, which was darkened by the flickering streetlight beside them.

"What was what about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You just left! What's up with you?"

"What's up with me?" Tsubaki repeated slowly, taking a step back to distance herself from Black*Star. "Why should I know? Aren't you the 'Great Black*Star?'"

"Tsubaki, don't make me fill in the blanks. I'm not good at that game." Black*Star folded his arms together. "Is this about the assignment?"

"What else is there to talk about?"

"Look," Black*Star slumped his shoulders. "I don't know what you want to do unless you tell me, but you need to tell me. This a real problem."

"Really? Couldn't tell." Tsubaki mumbled sarcastically. He couldn't possibly be thinking was she feared, right?

"Yes, it is. A meister has to be able to resonate with their weapon, and we barely made it out of that fight alive because we couldn't."

"That's right." Tsubaki gulped silently as shame filled her. Her job was to protect Black*Star, and he nearly died on that mission. They might have failed the one assignment, but she failed as a weapon.

"So, what do you think we should do?"

"Whatever you want to, Black*Star. Isn't that how it always is?" Tsubaki blurted out, unable to stop to words from tumbling out of her mouth. Why couldn't she just apologize? She had done it countless times before to countless people, so why couldn't she when their partnership depended on it the most?

"Do you think we should?" Black*Star bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to finish his sentence.

"Only if you think it's for the best." Tsubaki answered honestly, but she could feel her heart screaming at her to lie and tell him no. She wanted to tell him anything else, even if it wasn't an apology. Just anything but agree to this.

"I...I think it would be for the best," Black*Star said shakily, taking a step back. "if we took a break from our partnership."

Tsubaki simply nodded, a cold, empty feeling swelling inside her and she felt her eyes start to water. She could feel something inside her shake and give out, and she had a dark feeling it was whatever was left of her and Black*Star's resonance link.

"I'll go and get my things, then. I'll arrange things to live in the school dorms so you can keep the apartment." Black*Star could feel the tears coming, but he couldn't cry. Not in front of Tsubaki now. Even if he didn't want to do this, he had to do what was best for the both of them.

"Alright, anything else?" Tsubaki forced herself to keep herself for just a minute longer.

"No," Black*Star turned around in the direction of their apartment building. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, huh?"

"Yes," Tsubaki watched Black*Star walk away and she fell back down on the bench.

When she was sure that Black*Star was out of earshot, she hid her face in her hands and finally let go of this tough front she was putting up. She felt the hot tears slide down her cheeks, but she didn't care. If any of their friends saw that, she didn't care anymore. She was an idiot, but she was also a failure. "Goodbye, Black*Star."

* * *

_**Oh boo hoo, so friggin sad. What, am I being insensitive? Suck it up, you hippie. Now, the DWMA library at 7:30 p.m.**_

* * *

"What the hell are ya doin'?" Devon huffed from behind Hiro, who was sitting at one of the tables of the DWMA library. Why they were in the library, though, Devon still had no idea.

"Just let me find it!" Hiro hushed, flipping through several books that he had on the table.

"Find what?" Devon pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've been in here for hours, Hiro. What are you lookin' for?"

"Just give me a minute!" Hiro opened up another book, where was it?!

"You better tell meh now, or-" Devon threatened, tugging the back of Hiro's collar.

"Found it!" Hiro looked back up Devon and grinned. "Look!"

The book was opened to a page showing a small white doll-like creature, prancing around a cave with a white cane. From what Devon could tell, there seemed to be flies surrounding it, or were those supposed to be fairies?

"Alright, now tell me what this is. We've been here since school got out, and it's goin' on nine at night."

"It's Excalibur!"

"And?" Devon waited for Hiro to explain somewhat patiently. He thought for a moment before remembering something. "Hey, didn't you use somethin' like that for a fight?"

"Yep!" Hiro smiled proudly, thinking about his short time of fame at the DWMA.

"Why did you give it up?"

"The sneezing fits." Hiro stated as if it were obvious.

"Okay? Sneezin' fits. So why'd ya drag meh down here to look at a picture of it?"

"Because I'm going to go find him again!" Hiro answered cheerfully before his expression grew a bit shady and suspicious. "So I can use him for...you know."

Devon stared at Hiro for a moment before getting the gist of the message, but looked confused, "But if he drove ya nuts, why do ya wanna go get 'em again? Won't the sneezin' fits mess with ya again?"

"Well, yes, they would, if I wasn't prepared!" Hiro laughed and pulled out a box of allergy medication. "Behold! The answer to my problem!"

"Well, what if that stuff doesn't work?" Devon argued stubbornly, some strange part of him angry at Hiro wanting to get this _thing_ to be his weapon partner. "I've tried it before, but it don't work."

"You have allergies?" Hiro cocked his head to the side like a cat, giving Devon a curious look. He looked down at the picture on the table and back at Devon, deciding to just buy some more for Excalibur. "You can have some of this if you need it, you know. I don't care."

"Hm?" Devon's scowl lessened at Hiro's expression. "Nah, I ain't 'bout to use that junk."

"Are you sure? I don't mind, I can just buy some more later."

"I said I'm fine," Devon gritted his teeth, trying to drop the subject once he realized that Hiro was still thinking about partnering with that doll-thing. "Why do you need to get this 'Excalibur' to partner with you anyway? Don't you think you'd be better off with a real weapon?"

"Real weapon? Excalibur is a real weapon, Devon." Hiro put the allergy medication back on the table and closed the book, getting ready to check it out. "And he's super powerful, too. With his help, we could do anything!"

"Well, what's wrong with the weapons here at the academy? They're strong too." Devon countered, putting his jacket back on so that they could leave sooner.

"Fine, since you're so smart, do have a better partner for me in mind?" Hiro challenged, putting his own jacket on and pulled out his student library card/ id. He turned around to face Devon, raising an eyebrow cockily.

"Err...well, no." Devon stuttered irritatedly but felt angrier for some unknown reason at Hiro and strangely himself. He followed Hiro as he checked the book out, wondering why he felt so hollow.

"See? I have to go find Excalibur!" Hiro grinned, jabbing Devon in the side playfully. "You can come with me if you want. I'm sure the magic fairies won't mind the company."

"Magic fairies?" Mumbling, he stopped for a minute to send Hiro a questioningly look before shaking it off, figuring he had just misheard him.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Hiro rolled his eyes. This was the third time he had to repeat that, could that boy ever listen for a full minute without zoning out?

"Shoot." Devon quickly caught back up to Hiro and walked beside him as they made their way to the dorms on the other side of the building.

"If a rooster laid an egg on top of a hill, what way would the egg roll?" Hiro asked sincerely, keeping a straight face.

"What?"

"What way would the egg roll?"

"No, I heard ya, but that's random, dude."

"Well, I guess. But when Professor Stein asked me that in class in front of everyone, I said it would roll north and everyone laughed at me. I don't know why though, he never told me. I figured I'd ask you since you, farm boy."

"I ain't no farm boy," Devon scowled again once as Hiro finished his little speech. "But why north?"

"Because the way I see it, since moss is supposed to grow of the north side of trees, then the egg should roll north of the hill."

"Okay," Devon shook his head at Hiro's twisted logic. How were they in the same grade? "To answer your question, the egg wouldn't roll to any side of the of the hill."

"Huh? But it has to, right?" Hiro questioned, hugging his book to his chest tightly as if it were worth a million dollars.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Cuz roosters can't lay eggs, smart one."

"Really?" Surprised, Hiro nodded respectfully to Devon. "See, I knew you were the one to ask, farm boy."

"I ain't a farm boy," Devon repeated stubbornly. "Hey, Hiro. Did you know that if you say gullible really slowly it sounds just like 'orange'?"

"It does?" Hiro thought for a moment before trying to say as slowly as he possibly could, "Guuuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiibbbbbbbbbllllllllllllleeeeee."

"Idiot."

"What?"

"Nothin'."

* * *

_**Benji's pretty gullible too, so Hiro's not the only one. Also, he keeps confusing Hiro with a character called Alibaba for some reason. Next...FREEDOM OR CROAK CAFE. 7:30 P.M.**_

* * *

"Free, you can't eat that." Eruka said for the umpteenth time, counting the money in register for the day.

"Why not?" Free asked, turning the sign on the cafe door to say that they were closed for day before cleaning the room. "It has 'cake' in the name."

"And? You can't eat it. At least not for the rest of the week. Poison control said we're at our maximum calls. But you shouldn't eat it anyway. *Ribbit*" Eruka sighed. Luckily, the last few days weren't busy so they were able to manage without Black*Star on waiter duty. Or unfortunately since that meant they didn't have as much business. But on the other hand, without Black*Star the damage bills were cut nearly in half since he wasn't here to climb on top of the counter at noon to give his daily speech on how great he was. Why did they hire him again? Oh, right, because he was able to blackmail them and no one else would apply for the job.

"Why not?" Free repeated, slowly sweeping the floor in a way that he would break the broom.

"Free," Putting the money down, Eruka looked Free in the eye, stating the obvious. "*Ribbit* You can't eat a urinal cake just because it has 'cake' in the name."

"But you can eat cow patties and they have 'patty' in the name."

"No, you can't" she stared at him as if he had lost his mind before going wide-eyed at his implications. "Wait...Free when did you eat a cow patty?!"

"On our way to Death City."

"Was that why you were so sick that first week in the desert?" Eruka pressed her lips together in thought.

"I don't think so. I mean, it was still food right?"

"Free, cow patties are cow poop. *Ribbit* The only thing good about them are the flies that buzz around them."

"What?!" Free dropped the broom, his jaw dropping and his eyes the size of dinner plates. "You mean I ate cow poop?!"

"Yes?" Eruka replied slowly, not sure if she should tell him the truth. Hmm...if she was going to be completely truthful though, she should also tell him that he also drank a little boy's urine some time ago, too.

"YUCK!" Free shouted, hopping over the counter in one swift move and vigorously washed his mouth out in the sink as if there were still cow patty in it from months ago.

"Careful, Free." Eruka mumbled, hiding the cash register's money in a pickle jar with a fly enthusiast sticker on the lid under the counter.

Free didn't respond, too busy washing his mouth. As he grabbed the bar of soap sitting by the faucet, the soap slipped in his wet hand and fell into the basin. In anguish, he tried to grab the bar, but it slid around the sink until it promptly went down the drain to successfully clog it.

Free looked up at Eruka, who was now busy wiping the counter and hadn't seen the bar go down the drain. He bit the inside of his lip before sticking his hand down the drain while the water was still running, quickly filling the sink with cold water. He grimaced as he felt random slimy goo coat his fingers as he tried to find the soap. After a bit, he realized he would have to get the soap by opening the pipes and he dejectedly tried to yank his hand out of the drain but it wouldn't budge.

Scowling, he tried to pull his hand out again but got the same result. He gulped thickly as the water level neared the top of the basin and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before yanking his arm as hard as he could. With a sickening noise, his hand popped out of the drain but hit the faucet, knocking the entire top off of the sink and caused the water to spray everywhere just as the water in the basin reached the very top of the sink.

"Eep!" Eruka stumbled back, trying to shield herself from the water, accidentally knocking the glass plate of brownies she had made earlier that morning. The plate of brownies hit the floor, shattering into countless pieces and Eruka took a moment to see the broken and clogged sink.

Free slowly backed away to the other side of counter away from Eruka and saw that his hand was covered in some unknown green goop.

"Well?" Eruka quickly turned to face Free, scowling and tapping her foot angrily. "*Ribbit* Care to explain yourself?"

"Umm...well...you see-I was just-" Free's face turned bright red as he stuttered, hiding his green hand behind his back. "You know, I'll just go get some parts to fix it."

"That would help," Eruka fumed, snatching the jar from under the counter and put some money on top of the counter. "Here, use that to get some parts and a new plate."

"S-Sure," Ashamed, he took the money with his clean hand and started to walk out the door, but tripped over the broom that he dropped earlier. Luckily, he was able to catch himself before knocking over a table, but broke the broom in two.

"And get a new broom while you're at it." Hearing the broom crack, Eruka seethed as she cleaned up the broken glass as she crouched behind the counter.

"Okay," Free mumbled as he walked outside. As he shut the door behind him, he added, "Sorry."

* * *

_**I wanna eat a cow patty! I bet it would taste just like a krabby patty! Hm? Fine! I'm leaving! Geez!**_

* * *

Free sighed, gazing at the twinkling stars above him. He was walking the long way back to the cafe, deciding that Eruka would be calmer if he gave her time to blow off some steam before he properly apologized to her for breaking the sink.

He picked his pace as some homeless man wicked at him and turned to the right to go down the street that housed the city's best bars since it would get him home quicker. If wearing the waiter uniform down the street wasn't embarrassing enough, he was holding a bright pink broom in one hand (it was on sale as half off), the glass plate in the other, and the plumbing tools in his apron pocket.

He whistled to himself, trying to ignore the looks he was getting as he passed yet another bar. As he passed by the door, someone inside swung the door open, hitting Free square in the face and knocked him down onto the sidewalk.

"Thank you, girls!~" A fairly young red-haired death scythe grinned, waving to some people inside. The man, none other than Spirit, closed the door but was confused to see a man holding a hot pink broom in a waiter's uniform rubbing his face irritatedly while he hugged a glass plate to his chest. "Can I help you?"

"No, I'm just dandy," Free grunted sarcastically, glaring up at Spirit and wondered about the nerve of this guy, but didn't recognized that he was Lord Death's choice weapon. He slowly picked himself off of the ground, surprised that he somehow didn't break the plate by some miracle.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" Spirit folded his arms, taking a closer look at Free, who looked strangely familiar to him.

"No, I don't think so," Free coughed awkwardly as Spirit continued to stare at him. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the man suddenly got a glint in his eye, snapping his fingers as it all came together. "I've never met you."

"No, we haven't but I know you." Spirit's previously friendly smile turned dangerous as he took a cautious step toward Free. "You...You're the escaped convict that stole the magic eye!"

"Huh?" Free took a step away from Spirit, who took another step toward him.

"I'm afraid you're under arrest," Spirit took another step toward Free, but as Free realized what was going on, he bolted down the street toward the cafe.

"ERUKA!" Free yelled as loud as his lungs would let him, trying to not drop anything as Spirit took off after him. After running down the street, he turned into an alley, nearly knocking a man over as he kept going. Spirit, however, wasn't so lucky and stumbled into the man, quickly losing sight of Free as he dashed away to the cafe.

"I'm sorry, sir." Spirit helped the man up politely before seeing that he had lost Free and muttered, annoyed, "Dang it. Guess I'll have to file a report now."

With that, Spirit went back the way he came toward the DWMA, leaving the man to himself. The man stood there, confused, and dusted himself off and put his hat back on his head.

The man, Tom, mused to himself if the first man to run by was that Free from the cafe. Deciding that it couldn't be since Free didn't seem to be the type to wear his uniform out in public he leaned onto the brick wall behind him, pulling out a thick cigar and lit it.

Putting it into his mouth, he decided he would wait here for a bit in case that really was Free before heading over to the cafe. He couldn't risk them being awake when he came, anyway.

He smirked to himself, thinking of the owners. Eruka, so gullible, and Free, a complete idiot, both owned their constant flow of customers to him. But he needed money too for his own goals, so with the cloak of night on his side he would collect his payment.

Yes, he needed money, because like a fire needing tinder to grow, so did his dreams for this city. And he wasn't about to let his fire die out yet. It was only starting, and it was going to grow, burning everything that opposed to the ground.

* * *

**Done! Oh no! Tom!**

**Steve: You still like him?**

**Me: Okay, honestly? He was never meant to be an antagonist. BUT people hate him for some reason, so I was sitting at one point and I realized he'd make a good villain for the story.**

**Steve: And Marsha?**

**Me: Yes. OH. I've got ideas for the next chapter now! **

**Steve: I know this. I'm the frigging VOICE IN YOUR HEAD.**

* * *

**Signing out**

**~Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	13. The Mystery of Crotches

**Not gonna lie. This was actually meant to be up months ago. **

**But I lost the flash drive I stored all the chapters on after getting grounded yet again, so I figured no one really cared anyway. So after looking at the reviews after so much time had passed, my heart grew two sizes bigger and decided to write the next chapter. Only problem was that after reading the chapters, I had to edit everything because it wasn't up to my standards. After editing everything, I lost all the data again, then found the flash drive. But my hard drive to my computer was broken, which isn't that big of a deal except I put passwords on all of the chapters in case anyone found my flash drive. So I needed the hard drive to have access to the chapters. So after working on the computer, I fixed it long enough to resave everything to the flash drive as unprotected files and took that flash drive to school the next day because my computer isn't actually fixed. Then, I uploaded all of the chapters to my Google Drive account (so, yes, now this whole story is in the cloud) and had to write the chapter with my school's computers. Fun times.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Steve, and that is only because he is a voice in my head that raised my moral to edit this story.**

* * *

_**The next day: Freedom or Croak Cafe. 4 a.m. Upper floor.**_

* * *

Free grunted, shifting over to his side on his cot. The floorboards squeaked under his weight and he squinted, glaring into the darkness. Maybe three feet away from him was Eruka lying fast asleep on her cot, but she had closed the curtain to the only window they had because she said he acted weird in his sleep when it was open.

Their room was so _small_, he felt trapped like a caged animal. And in a way, he was.

Damn idiot.

Eruka was ticked when he came storming in last night, throwing the pink broom over the counter while he ducked behind a table. He had blown their cover-it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for them. And that kid! _Black*Star_, he'd rat them out in a heartbeat!

And they weren't even doing anything illegal this time.

_Creak_.

He sat upright, frowning at the noise. What was that? It didn't sound like the wind, no, surely he knew what the wind sounded like. Glancing to his right, he stuck his hand out to try and find Eruka. As he pressed down on something, he felt soft flesh-a nose. His hand was on her face. He whispered, "Hey, Eruka?"

At first, she didn't answer but moved a bit in her sleep, mumbling to herself.

"Wake up," he murmured, moving his hand so he could poke her cheek. But she still didn't wake up. He rolled off of his cot, hitting the floor with a thud.

Voices. He heard voices! From down the stairs in the cafe! But it was four in the morning, so who would bother coming at this hour?

He stood in a hurry, hitting his head on a pipe hanging from the ceiling. Stupid thing. They didn't have enough money to fix it yet. But he shook Eruka, "Eruka!"

"W-Wah?" she whispered, holding her blanket tightly as he tried to jostle her from sleep.

"Get up, woman!" Free growled. If she was able to hear him, she'd slap him for saying that but she didn't so he kept trying. "Now!"

"Free?" a drowsy groan. She swatted him away, "*Ribbit* Go back to sleep."

"I think there's people down stairs!" Free gritted his teeth, she needed to get up!

"Then you go, I'm sleeping," she turned away from him, her breathing becoming heavier as she fell back asleep.

A soft growl vibrated in the back of his throat as he stepped toward the door. _Thud_. He winced as he stubbed his toe on the leg of a cot.

He had to keep going. Now.

Another step, away from where he had stubbed his toe, then another. His hands were in front of him, trying to find the door or at least the wall-why did cats get to see in the dark, but he couldn't? Then his left hand brushed the rough wood of the door frame, so he moved a bit so he could touch the door.

The door squeaked open from when he had forgotten to close it before going to bed and he walked through it. The hallway was just as dark, but he kept going. Pass the bathroom, toward the stairs. When he got near, he saw the lights were on downstairs. Impossible-he knew Eruka had turned them off.

He inched near the stairs, straining himself to listen to the voices in the cafe. A cheeky boyish voice laughed, "This will supply us for months!"

"Yeah, maybe we'll have snacks at the next meeting," a girlish voice giggled. "We all know how much you eat, Dax!"

"Whatever, May," the first voice grumbled, then it made a sound of surprise. "Sir! What should we do with this?"

"Put it with the rest," an elderly voice replied. Free knew that voice! But who was it?

"I get we need supplies for our mission, but why are we robbing some cafe?" another voice grunted. It sounded masculine but younger that the leader's. Why was he just standing there? He needed to move, but-

"If Death is going to burn, then we need to keep their attention on other matters besides us," the older voice hummed. "I happen to know the owners here. I imagine that the local authorities would jump at the chance to capture war criminals."

"Truly, sir?" the masculine voice asked, then there was a loud thud.

"Yes, but please don't make too much noise, Adam," the leader sighed. "We can't have the owners waking up and spoiling our fun."

"Yessir!" the boy's voice, Dax, was it? "We have everything loaded up and ready to go!"

"Well, everything but an idiot. Seriously, Dax, get in the truck so we can go!" the girl scolded.

Free needed to move! Whatever this was, he had to stop them! He bolted toward the stairs, a panicked sweat running down the back of his neck.

"We should go. I don't want any filthy animals trying to nose in on our business," the older voice ushered, the door opening as Free tumbled down the stairs. The cafe was empty! _Empty_! Those bastards had taken everything! There was a truck outside, a tarp covering its cargo. Inside there was a short older man, waving at something.

Free charged at the door, swinging it open so hard it flew off of its hinges, but stared as the truck began to drive off. No! He wouldn't have that! He kept running, maybe he could jump onto the back of the truck and stop them!

The truck sped up, a face flashing in the mirror of the vehicle. The masculine voice snapped, "Sir, there's a man."

"Yea, he's following us," the girl's voice added as Free closed in on the back of the truck. If he could just jump far enough, he could make it! "What do you want us to do, Mister Tom?"

"What do I want us to do? Punch the gas!" the older voice retorted, and the truck made a screeching noise as the gas was pressed, skidding down the road while leaving Free in its dust.

"Hey!" he howled. Dammit, dammit, dammit! He needed to punch something, anything! He turned around, ready to stalk back to the cafe. They had just gotten robbed and he didn't stop them!

Mister Tom.

That was the older man's name. The leader's name.

Tom.

No way. Was it the same Tom that came into the cafe everyday? The same Tom that Eruka adored? But, no. That was-it couldn't-_wha t_? No! Free hated Tom but that old man couldn't actually have done this to them, right?

It couldn't be that Tom. But even if it was by some chance, he couldn't tell Eruka. She'd get mad for accusing the old guy-she wouldn't believe him. Did Free believe himself?

He didn't know anymore.

* * *

_**So actionful! Okay, Steve says to touch your nose. Good, now Steve says to dance like a chicken. BE NORMAL! Ha! I didn't say 'Steve says' so you lose! Next: Crona's room at 8 a.m.**_

* * *

Crona yawned, groggily looking up from under his blanket. What time was it? Would he get to see the snake today? Would he even had a lesson with the professor today? It was Sunday, so maybe not. Or the lesson might be extra long to make up for how shorten the lessons have been recently.

"_Oh, shuddup and lemme sleep."_

Ragnarok. But Crona was still tired, he didn't want to leave the warmth of his bed. Not even for Mr. Corner.

There was footsteps coming down the hall and voices argued. Probably the scary blue man with someone to give Crona his breakfast. That would make the most sense.

So he waited in bed. The scary blue man just left the food at the door now instead of trying to get Crona to come out. He had fixed Crona's door last night, which was nice.

"_Yes, that blonde devil off is terrorizing somebody somewhere, NOW LEMME SLEEP."_

Oh yeah. Patti. Crona grimaced-she was too excitable for his taste. Maka was so much more calm. Or at least most of the time. When she wasn't angry.

There was a loud bang on his door, and it shuddered under the pressure. It wasn't in the best of shape now since a Patti broke it down. Still, he wasn't about to get up. The scary blue man would just leave the food there and leave. He turned on his side so he wouldn't have to see the door.

There was a thud, and the door flew open. His eyes widened, who was this? Then, a cheerful voice chirped, "Rise and shine, Crona!"

Then he was being lifted against his will into someone's arms. He squeaked, shutting his eyes, "Eep!"

"Calm down, Crona, it's just us," a calmer voice sighed. Crona opened his eyes to see Professor Stein's face, his eyes drowsily glancing around the room from behind his glasses. He moved Crona so that he was holding him over his shoulder. "Marie wants you to come with us."

"Yep! You ready for a day of fun?!" Miss Marie grinned, her black duffel bag clenched in one hand. "Come on, Stein! The car's still running!"

Professor Stein started walking behind Miss Marie down the hall, leaving Crona's room far behind as they headed for above ground. The professor grumbled, "Doesn't leaving the car on create exhaust, which creates pollution, which destroys the environment?"

"Yes, it does!" Miss Marie scowled at him, running up the stairs in her heels. "That's why I was mad that you wouldn't turn your car off."

"Yeah?" Professor Stein rolled his eyes, following her through the DWMA hallways. They passed by his classroom and he could see tomorrow's dissection project had been delivered in its cage, sitting on his desk.

"Um," Crona mumbled, only able to see where they had been rather than where they were going. "Where are you taking m-me?"

"A place!" he heard Miss Marie answer as they walked outside the doors into the blinding sunlight. _It was too bright for him_!

"Yes, Marie, that's very descriptive," the professor coughed, turning the screw in his head with his other hand as they walked down the long outdoor staircase. "Crona, we're-"

"Don't you dare!" Miss Marie cut him off. "It's going to be a surprise!"

"Hmph," Professor Stein grunted as they walked across the road to a small jeep that was parallel parked along the street, opening one of the back door to push Crona inside. "Buckle up."

Miss Marie got in the passenger's seat as Professor Stein started the engine from the driver's seat. The jeep revved to life, vibrating the seats as the professor put the vehicle in drive.

"Hey, why'd ya let yourself get kidnapped?" Ragnarok made his appearance, smacking his meister across the head.

As they started to drive off, Crona gulped, "K-K-Kidnapped?!"

"What? No!" Miss Marie glanced back at him from her seat. "We're just taking you somewhere."

"Like a cold, dark basement to tie him up while you're writing ransom notes?" Ragnarok suggested, pushing Crona forward so that he wouldn't get squished. In response, Crona leaned back, pressing back the demon. The weapon shouted in anguish, "Dammit, Crona!"

"Language!" Miss Marie frowned, pointing a finger at Ragnarok. "And no, we are _not_ kidnapping Crona."

It was early, so it seemed like most places weren't open. People weren't really out right now. Still, Professor Stein stayed on the main roads, leaving Crona to stare out the window as they passed by trees and parks and stores. Where were they going?

"Are too!" Ragnarok snapped back at her, yanking on Crona's ear to get him to stop pushing the demon into the seat. "Stop that!"

"I never told you to come out," Crona shrugged, leaning back further despite Ragnarok's protest.

Professor Stein made a sharp turn into a huge parking lot with an even bigger building. It was long and flat, a mall. Crona had never actually been in one but Maka told him that they had lots of stores inside at one place so people could just walk from shop to shop. The professor parked the jeep, throwing Crona forward in his seat when they stopped suddenly and glanced back Crona, "Everybody, get out."

"Ha! See?! How do you like it?!" Ragnarok cheered as Crona unbuckled himself, opening the door to step out. "Serves you damn right!"

"Oh my-Language!" Miss Marie corrected herself as she hopped out of the jeep, grabbing Crona's frail wrist as she marched toward the huge double doors of the mall with Professor Stein in tow. At her side was a purse, stuffed from something as it hung limply at her hips.

Where was he going? Crona wished they would tell him-he didn't like surprises. He didn't know how to deal with them. But no, Miss Marie led him past more stores then he could count while Ragnarok shouted in protest. Professor Stein didn't say much, opting to walk behind them with his hands tucked in his pockets.

"Come on!" Miss Marie grinned, pulling Crona into an intimidating shop named a sinister name: "Old Navy." Did they sell old submarine and war stuff there from the navy?

But Miss Marie went on inside, motioning at Professor Stein at a shopping cart as she grabbed several packs of _things_ in her other hand. The things were in tight packaging with the title _Briefs_ on it in big black lettering. What were _briefs_? And the picture on the cover was so strange-it was a picture of a shirtless man with developed muscles. How strange.

She threw the briefs in the shopping cart that Professor Stein was pushing silently behind them, still clenching Crona's wrist tightly. But as she turned around, she came face to face with a whole wall of briefs and funny pictures. As she stared in a daze, the professor frowned and tapped his glasses in concentration.

Could they leave this section of the store? They could even go to the submarines! Crona just didn't want to stay here-it was awkward and uncomfortable as Miss Marie continued to stare, a small smile playing on the edges of her lips as a tiny bit of drool started to drip from the side of her mouth.

"Marie. Pants section now?" Professor Stein coughed, tapping her backside gently with the cart.

"Huh?" Miss Marie glanced behind her shoulder at him, then back at the pictures before scowling. "Argh! I hate this aisle!"

"Hmph," the professor leaned back, walking to another end of the store with the cart.

"Where are you going?" she asked, rushing after him with Crona's wrist still within her grasp.

Professor Stein threw a few pair of pants into the cart, then socks and a pair of black sneakers before rolling his eyes at her, "I'm getting Crona the essentials."

"Underwear is an essential!" Miss Marie snapped, dragging Crona further into the store as Professor Stein followed them, using the cart to roll forward. Where were the submarines? And why was Crona even here?

"Not true!" an annoyed voice argued above him. Ragnarok. He had nearly forgotten about him. "I don't wear underwear!"

"You don't count!" Miss Marie narrowed her eyes, yanking Crona toward a counter in the middle of the store with a woman standing near it, surrounded by little halls with a bunch of doors. Is this where all of the submarines are?

"I don't count?! I don't count?!" Ragnarok shrieked, banging his hand on to the top of Crona's head. "What's next-Crona's not gonna count?!"

"That's not what I-nevermind! Just shut up!" Miss Marie let go of Crona's wrist, much to his horror to find it red and raw from her grip. She held up her hand to the woman at the counter, then pointed to the cart full of clothes. "One room, please."

"Go to room seven," the woman shrugged, picking up a flimsy magazine. "On the right."

Miss Marie nodded, shoving Crona into a cramped room. Handing him a pile of clothes, she locked him inside. An annoyed frown grazed his mouth as he glanced around the room. Where was he? He dropped the bundle of clothes on a small bench and turned to see a dusty mirror hanging on the door.

As Ragnarok hovered above him, he glared at his reflection. Was he always this skinny? This scrawny? No, he couldn't be-could he? Or maybe he was- he never really looked at himself before. There was no need. _She_ said he fine, pathetic and cowardly, yes, but he looked fine. But if he really did look fine, then he would look like Soul or Kid, right? Kid was skinny, but his ribs don't jut out awkwardly like the reflection Crona was seeing in the mirror. Kid didn't look this boney. Kid didn't look like a _walking skeleton._

"Yeesh, you keep lookin' at that mirror, you're gonna have to marry it," Ragnarok bopped him softly on the head, breaking Crona's stupor as he glared up at the demon. With a shrug he pointed to the bundle of clothes with his bulky fist. "Sooner you change, the sooner we get back to the hellhole you can a home."

* * *

_**Meanwhile with Stein!**_

* * *

"What about this then?" Marie picked up a pink t-shirt and touched it gingerly, curiously glinting in her eye.

"No. Put that down," Stein batted her hand, knocking it out of her grasp. "I don't care if Crona is a girl. I don't see her wearing pink anytime soon."

"We went over this-you don't know if Crona is a girl!" Marie huffed, glancing at the display table covered in an assortment of shirts.

"Didn't you just give her a package of men's underwear to try on?" Stein retorted, slouching against the cart. "Are you allowed to try on underwear in stores? That doesn't seem sanitary."

Marie led him toward the boys' clothing, her heels clicking on the store's tile floors. The clothing was noticeable darker on these displays and he was left by a rack only to approve of these selections compared to the previous tables. Her hand hovered over some jackets before she mumbled, "Go check on him."

"Why?" Stein sighed, glaring at her hand. Marie just bought Crona winter clothes-what did she think she was doing?

"Because," she bit her lip in deep thought. "He probably needs help."

"Help? How old do you take her for?" Stein coughed into his hand, mockingly.

"How old is Crona?" Marie frowned, then shook her head. "Nevermind that-just go help him!"

"Fine," Stein shrugged, leaving the cart next to her as he wandered down the aisles toward the changing rooms. Room seven on the right. As his hand touched the door, he heard soft mumbles of discomfort. Seriously? Did Crona actually need assistance putting on pants?

With a flick of the wrist, he unlocked the door and peered in, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed that the bundle of clothes Marie had given were laying neatly folded on a bench and Crona was struggling to get off her dress, pulling the fabric over her head and leaving her completely exposed and bare as she was turned so that Stein could only see her backside. Before he could stop himself, he noticed the lack of underwear in the changing room-that decided that, apparently Crona did not wear underwear, much like Stein-and his face felt warm as he tensed, about to leave before Crona noticed his arrival.

But with a final tug, Crona finally got the dress over her head and tossed it on the bench, turning slightly as if to see herself in the mirror.

"Gah!" Crona's eyes widened in horror to see Stein as his gaze pointed at Crona's chest, then crotch.

Stein paled slightly as he slammed the door, rushing away from the changing rooms. He felt overheated and dear Death, he couldn't steady his heartbeat. In his panic, he brushed by Marie as she sauntered over to the changing room with her arms filled with pink t-shirts. He grabbed forcefully by the shoulder, nearly shouting, "You were right, okay?!"

"W-What?" Marie leaned back, confused. "Do you forget to take your madness medication this morning?"

"No!" Stein scoffed, releasing her. He feverishly ran a hand through his hair, "Crona is a boy, alright?"

"How do you know?" Marie raised a brow at him, getting gradually more concerned.

"Trust me, I know," Stein replied darkly, rubbing his hands on his pants to get rid of the sweat. "I'm going out to the car."

"Why?" Marie frowned, hugging the shirts closer to her chest. "And how do you know?"

"You don't want to know, Marie. You really don't."

* * *

_**Death Mansion! **_

* * *

"No, Kid." Liz growled, holding a basket in arms stubbornly as she raised it above her head and out of her meister's reach. "You have issues and this is the first step to fixing them."

They were in Kid's room as Kid scowled up at her, a dark dust growing on his scalp from not shaving his head yet today. Patti had already left to who knows where and Liz had made sure to get this basket before Kid woke up. Although, maybe she was cursed by some angry ghost-Kid woke up as soon as she went to his dresser and began to fill it. Which, due to his own ignorance about modern men's fashion, caused him to get upset and made this situation occur.

"My head is perfect! Marsha completes me!" Kid retorted, trying to stand on his toes to reach the basket, which was filled with the products he used to shave his head. Scissors, razor blades, shears, and wax. The usual. "I don't know why you're being like this!"

"It's for the good of society," she rolled her eyes, raising the basket further out of his reach. Did he really think he was going to able to get the basket? "No one needs to see your naked head."

"Then what if I wear a symmetrical hat?" Kid relented, stepping in rather too close for Liz's taste to try and reach the basket. "The world needs perfection, and I am now able to give it to them!"

"No, you aren't," she stepped back, annoyed as a warmth rushed to her cheeks as Kid stepped perfectly in time with her. So she stared pointedly at the large zit on his cheek, "Have you even bothered using the acne cream I gave you?"

Suddenly, he stepped away from her, his lip jutted out as he pouted, "Yes, I have! It won't go away!"

"Then how are you giving the world perfection?" she closed her eyes, but kept the basket over her head. Was something wrong with her? She was actually beginning to miss Kid's close presence-why? He wasn't warm-he was actually quite cold, like Lord Death himself. Getting near Kid caused a temperature drop of at least twenty degrees. "That zit makes you asymmetrical, that haircut makes you look dorky, and you know what? The human body is asymmetrical, Kid. Your organs and shit aren't organized all perfect and for the love of Death, the word symmetry is asymmetrical!"

Kid's hands dropped to his side, and while she expected a full freak out, he stepped further away from her, his eyes wavering like he was about to cry. Then, he narrowed his eyes darkly, "Elizabeth! How can you say that?"

She lowered the basket, letting out a small sigh, "I'll make you a deal-stop whatever this hair obsession is with you, meaning you let me throw away this basket, and I'll pop your zit."

"Popping a zit? Like a balloon?" Kid rolled his eyes dramatically, still tense. Lovely. He was still angry.

"Yes," Liz shook her head, putting the basket on his bed. "Come over here and I'll get rid of it."

Kid gave her a skeptical look before stepping closer to her, eyeing the basket on the bed. In return, she made sure to stand in from it, guarding it from him. He closed his eyes and slumped in defeat, "Fine, murder Marsha. But get rid this monstrous volcano on my face."

She nodded, putting her fingers on the pimple gingerly as she noticed Kid wince at her touch, still refusing to open his eyes. She almost felt sorry for him-he's probably never had a zit before, so he probably wasn't going to enjoy what she was going to do. Just as she was about to press down on the blemish, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Sighing, she pulled it out with one hand without looking at the caller I.D., "Hello?"

"H-Hey, Liz?" a timid voice quivered nervously.

"Oh, hey, Tsubaki," Liz put the phone between her ear and shoulder, freeing her hands to touch the zit again. "You need something?"

"Um...yeah," there was a long pause before she spoke again. Not that Liz minded too much. She was distracted in her attempt to find the best position to pop the blemish that would cause Kid the least amount of pain. "Do you know how to fix a leak?"

"A leak?" Liz squinted. Why was Kid's pimple so red? Patti wasn't wrong-it did kind of look like a shiny, red apple. "Not really. Can Black*Star not fix it himself?"

"Not exactly." her reply was quick and sudden, almost evasive. No. Liz must be imagining it. Tsubaki couldn't be evasive, she had nothing to hide. So she bit her lip, preparing to pop the volcano on Kid's face.

* * *

_**Meanwhile on Tsubaki's end of the phone…**_

* * *

"I already called Maka, and she didn't know how. And Soul only knows how to fix motorcycle motors," Tsubaki mumbled into the landline phone in the living room, playing with the cord anxiously. Behind her, the steady drip of the water faucet was about to drive her insane. "But I was wondering if you knew."

"Nope. Sorry." Liz grumbled, then there was loud shouting on her end of the phone, making Tsubaki move the phone away from her ear from the volume. "Kid, stop squirming!"

"S-Should I call later?" she asked, disturbed about what Liz and Kid could be doing that would cause-no. No, she shook her head, she didn't need to get any ideas. It was better not to wonder-it wasn't any of her business anyway.

"Dammit, Kid! You're bleeding now!" Liz growled, unaware that she was still on the phone. There was a yelp of protest. "Stop fidgeting and I'll finish!"

"Gah!" Tsubaki hung up the phone hastily, turning to see the living room in a mess. She grimaced-there was used tissues everywhere, mostly littering the couch. And an empty ice cream container. Because after last night, she wanted a tub of ice cream, even if she didn't deserve it.

She sighed to herself, grabbing some of the tissues to throw away. Black*Star had gotten his things in a rush last night before she had gotten back, so she knew he wasn't going to come back. He couldn't. She of all people knew his ego wouldn't let him. And it was all her fault of letting him go.

In all aspects, she was a disgrace of a weapon. She didn't deserve to attend the DWMA, much less this apartment, which was probably why she forced herself to sleep on the couch despite Black*Star not being home. She couldn't bring herself to accept that he wasn't coming back. Part of her wanted to find him and apologize for her behavior, but the other part reminded her that his behavior was just as unacceptable and she was right for standing up for herself. And she had let a simple argument ruin their partnership after allowing it to tear at her, causing her motivations as a weapon to become conflicted and therefore impure.

What was she going to tell the others? She couldn't, not unless Black*Star told them-she owed him that much. If he didn't want the others to know about this, then they wouldn't know.

She would just have to keep it under wraps.

Even if their partnership was over, this was the last kind thing she could do for him.

* * *

**This started all dramatic, then it was light-hearted, then it got all depressing. Stupid Tsubaki, screwing with me like that. Honestly, I was going to put in another scene with the snake's name BUT I forgot after I lost the flash drive the second time. So it might be in the next chapter. I have to remember what the winning name was…**

**So Marsha is dead, Kid got pimple-popped, and Tsubaki is as emo as ever. And Stein finally got his facts straight. Took him long enough.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

* * *

**Signing out**

**Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	14. Is that a NAME I spy?

**Chapter fourteen! Well, this story is WAY longer than I remember it being. Because the plot line just beginning. Yesh, what have I gotten myself into?**

* * *

**REMIALCSID is disclaimer spelt backwards. Basically, I own nothing.**

* * *

_**Steve would like to inform all viewers that is is daytime. That is all.**_

* * *

What had he been thinking?

Death, what had he been _thinking_?

Crona swallowed as the smaller girl dragged him through Death City Zoo, with Professor Stein following right behind him. Why did he agree to letting _Patti_ of all people take him out on a 'field trip' (as Professor Stein had called it)? He should have listened to Ragnarok and stayed in his room today, surrounded by the new clothes that Miss Marie and the professor had bought for him yesterday.

"Hurry up, slowpokes! The giraffes are this way!" Patti grinned, yanking harder on Crona's arm as she led on, not bothering to look back to see his discomfort.

He must have gone insane when he agreed to this.

"You can take your time, Patti." Professor Stein glanced up lazily from his map, his glasses reflecting the morning light. "We're going to be here all day."

"Yeah, but the giraffes might die between now and then!" Patti objected, picking up her pace as she began to skip merrily. "Come on!"

As she skipped, Crona was drugged painfully down with her, leaning into her steps but having to skip with her. That was probably the only good thing about his height. It protected him from this insanity.

Soon enough, she had drug the both of them to the outdoor giraffe exibit and Crona was able to catch his breath as she gawked at the tall mammals. Professor Stein stepped close to Crona, slipping something from his jacket's sleeve into the hood of Crona's hooded sweatshirt. It was cold, it was slimy, it made Crona want to scream.

Oh.

Oh, Death.

It was alive.

It was _alive_ and slithering down into his underwear, which Miss Marie called 'boxer briefs', and into a more reserved area of his black skinny jeans.

"Gah!" he yelped, shaking his leg to get whatever it was out of his pants. But as he put his foot down, he tripped on the new military boots that Professor Stein had made him wear. They were heavy and called 'steel toe', so Crona fell to the cement sidewalk with a painful thud, his face getting scraped from the hit.

"What'cha-Oh my god!" Patti turned to see Crona fall, and bent lower to see him, unlike Professor Stein, who hadn't even batted an eye. Just as Crona thought Patti was worried for his sake, her face light up in childish excitement as she put her hand much too close to his crotch for his liking, especially after what had happened yesterday at that submarine store. Something popped out of the top of the waistband of his jeans. A small, black, scaly head.

He scowled, annoyed at the snake in his pants, then annoyed at the professor that put her there. So he glanced up at Professor Stein, who smirked down at him, "What? She needed the fresh air."

Carefully, he pulled out the snake and the serpent quickly wrapped herself around Crona's frail wrist as he held her up for Patti to see. She touched the snake's head without any hesitations, a maniacal glint in her eye, "It's so pretty!"

"It's a girl." Crona mumbled, sort of out the habit that Professor Stein had created surrounding the snake's gender issues.

"Well, then _she_'s so pretty!" Patti corrected herself, surprised when the snake hissed at her, retreating back into Crona's sleeve.

"Patti." Professor Stein said firmly, folding the map under his arm to lift both Crona and Patti to their feet. "We need to discuss something."

"M'kay!" Patti shrugged, glancing at the giraffes again. "What?"

"You can't tell anyone about this." Professor Stein turned her to face him, worry drawn on his face. "You can't say anything about Crona."

"Why?" she cocked her head to the side, much like a cat.

"It could be dangerous for _him_." Professor Stein cleared his throat awkwardly as Crona fought to keep the blush off his cheeks. "_He_'s going to attend class again in about a week, but we need it to be a surprise, alright?"

"Oh! I love surprises!" Patti clapped her hands and the professor smiled, nodding at her. But then she frowned, "He's going to attend next week? But doesn't everyone have to complete an entrance exam? Or did I miss that?"

"No, he has to do not only a written exam, but a verbal test," Professor Stein eyed Crona cautiously, speaking slowly. Exams? Crona hadn't been told this! No, he figured that all he had to do was these classes! He had to do a _verbal test_ too?! "And he has to do a two-day mission outside of town with a fully-fledged member of the DWMA. Then he'll wait a day for the test to be graded, then next day will be his results being published. He'll attend the day after that. So his written exam is tomorrow."

"_What_?!" Crona gawked, nearly falling over on the guardrail that protected them from the giraffes in the exhibit.

"If you promise to keep quiet, you're allowed to be his watcher on the mission," Professor Stein muttered reluctantly. "You won't have to make up the homework you miss, but you have to promise not say anything about this, even after Crona's back in class with the other students."

"M'kay." Patti nodded, shaking the professor's hand for good measure. Then she grinned, clapping Crona on the back. "You're gonna be in class soon!"

"Yeah." he mumbled, feeling the snake wrap herself tighter to his arm. Patti couldn't talk about this ever? Why? It's not like they were close, but he made him wonder. He knew that the students hated him, especially after that one kid in the halls, but did they really hate him that much? How could anyone hate anybody so much? Was it because he was a coward? Or that he was _her_ son?

He couldn't even bring himself to say _her_ name anymore.

He really was a coward.

He couldn't even bring himself to _think_ it.

Taking a thick gulp, he closed his eyes in concentration.

Medusa.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it? He said _her _name, his mother's name, and nothing bad had happened. It really was all in his head.

"So, what's her name?" Patti grinned, taking Crona's arm into her hand, causing the snake to squirm uncomfortably.

"Medea." he choked out, not really thinking. Medea? He hadn't actually picked out a name yet, but he liked that name. But it sounded too similar to _her_ name.

A small smile flickered onto his mouth.

Well, he couldn't say _her_ name out loud yet, but Medea was a close second.

And close second was better than nothing.

* * *

_**Meh. I don't really care what time it is. Do you? Either way, I´m not telling.**_

* * *

"Death, they took everything!" Eruka bit her lip as she gazed at their empty cafe, her eyes beginning to water. They couldn't even file a report with the police because that meant blowing their cover. Not that they were hiding anything, but try telling that to overpaid cops. Slowly, she glanced over at Free, who was touching the broken counter delicately. "Are you´re sure you didn´t *Ribbit* see them?"

"Nah." he mumbled, upset over something.

She didn't know what it was though. Faintly, she could remember Free trying to get her up last night, but she couldn't remember why. What that why he was so upset right now? That couldn't be it, could it? No, Free had tried to awake her for something stupid. He always did. Usually it was to ask her if the upstairs bathroom was to the left or right of the bedroom door.

"Well, we *Ribbit* had a good run while we were at it, huh?" she sighed, patting him softly on the back.

"What are we gonna do now?" he closed his eyes thoughtfully as he rested his face onto his hand. Thoughtful. It was a strange expression on Free. But she liked it. It looked good on him.

"Well, we can't stay here." she answered, glancing at the door of the cafe. A few people tried to glance into their cafe, but were quickly warded off by the closed sign she had put up this morning.

"So we just give up?" Free frowned, an angry crease in his brow as he opened his eyes to glare at her, sitting up suddenly. "That's how it always is with you, isn't it? When things get tough, you just give up!"

"Then what do *Ribbit* you suggest we do?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "Because there´s nothing left for us here."

There was a ring at the door, the bell chiming as a short person entered, causing Free to tense beside her. But she smiled kindly to him, "Tom!"

"What happened here?" he took off his hat and nodded respectfully at her, he was always such a nice old man, wasn't he? Eruka didn't know what Free had against him-Tom had helped them in their hour of need, so if anything, they were in his debt! "It seems like you've been cleared out…?"

"Robbed." Free growled, standing up to tower over the small man. "We were robbed last night."

"Oh, dear." Tom frowned, but Eruka caught something strange in the old man´s eye. It was a knowing look, a smug glitter of some sort. No, she had to be wrong. This was Tom! Tom was the most honest man she had ever met! "That's quite a pity."

"Hell yeah, it is." Free scoffed, glaring down at Tom.

"You know," Tom started, then he stopped himself, shaking his head. "No, no. Nevermind."

"What?" Eruka asked curiously, her head tilted to the side slightly.

"It´s just… I have some colleagues that were wanting your cooking for a benefit dinner. They were offering for you come work as part of our kitchen staff full-time." Tom shrugged, putting his hat back on. "But I understand if you don't want to."

"No! That´s a wonderful idea!" she grinned, going over to him and Free. "Does it pay well?"

"Splendid." Tom smiled. "You can start tomorrow if you like."

"Of course! *Ribbit*" she clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, but we don´t know where-"

"Here." Tom pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket which had an address written neatly on it. "Both of you come at eight o'clock sharp."

As he left, she was too giddy to notice the feeling in the depth of her gut-the feeling that she was falling for a trap of some sort. No, she didn't wonder how Tom had come to the cafe so prepared to offer them a job when he shouldn´t have known beforehand that their business was destroyed. Or how uptight Free had gotten when Tom had walked through the door. She was too happy over their lucky break.

So how was she expected to notice?

* * *

_**Meanwhile in the DWMA dorms...said Steve.**_

* * *

He was so _bored_.

Black*Star sighed to himself, lifting a dumbbell in one hand and a book in the other. Not that he was reading. No, he was the almighty Black*Star. He didn't read. He had other people read to him.

So he was laying down on his new bed in the DWMA aboveground dorm rooms, exercising his worries away. He had a small radio playing rap in the background and his floor was already a disaster in what little time he has spent there. The only clean section of the room was the untouched cot on the other side, set aside for the mysterious roommate he was supposed to get next week.

It was probably good that he was getting a new kid to be his roommate. That way, he could be in charge and set the house rules while taking the new guy under his godly wing.

Until then, he was stuck here. Trying to hide from the others as he entered and exited his room. As much as the partnership didn't work out, it was taboo for partners to break their compact with each other. And since he was friends with Maka and Soul, he had to be careful. If they found out, they'd do everything in their power to keep the Tsubaki and Black*Star partnership alive.  
Why did the partnership fail in the end? Whose fault was it? Was it Black*Star´s, for being too arrogant to acknowledge Tsubaki, or her´s for trying to tell him what to do?

Ugh. He was starting to get a headache. He shouldn't be thinking this much.

* * *

**Hmm...That was shorter than I thought it would be. I´m gonna blame Black*Star for it, since his scene was so short. Like him. Heh. Ironic, no?**

**OH NO! I NAMED THE GODDAMN SNAKE! WHAT SHALL WE DO NOW?**

**Steve: Dramatic much?**

**Me: Yes. Very. But I've been rambling on about the name for over year now, at least.**

**Steve: You were gone for over a year, at least.**

**Me: Still. Before my data for the story got deleted, I actually picked out the name. Then I forgot. I think Medea was the name...Can't be sure, though.**

* * *

**REVIEW!  
**

* * *

**Signing out**

**Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


	15. Testing and Bets

**Why did this feel like it took forever to write? I dunno, but you have my apologizes on it being so late. I had the scenes sketched out for this chapter about a week or two ago, but I got sucked into another story I've been doing.**

* * *

**In other news, thanks to my creepy guest reviewer(s?)! Seriously! You guys freaked me out! But it got me to hurry up and write the next chapter, so I guess you win in the end.**

* * *

**As much as I would love to own the rights to Soul Eater, I am disappointed to admit that I don't. Yes, I know! My huge ego is crumbling under the weight of the knowledge I don't own Soul Eater! NOOOOOooooo~!**

* * *

_**Ah! The next day - Eight o'clock sharp! **_

* * *

"Hurry up!" Eruka croaked, gripping his arm tightly as she yanked him down the busy streets during Death City's morning rush. "We *Ribbit* can't be late!"

What was he doing? He was a coward-why couldn't he just tell her what happened last night? That working anywhere _near_ Tom was a bad idea? But no, he kept weighing his options, thinking how useless it would be to tell Eruka. She wouldn't believe him. Oh? Her Tom, the innocent elderly man that helped them robbed them? Oh, no! That couldn't be him!

Yet he was Free, the last of the Immortal Clan. And he was afraid to tell some girl the truth?

"And why not?" he huffed as she dragged him toward an older building. Where was she taking him? This building looked abandoned-why would Tom give them a fake address? Erm, well, besides the obvious reasons.

To top it all off, Eruka had forced him into an itchy button-down shirt. It had sleeves! He hated sleeves! They were nothing more than handcuff for his arms! Yet, he had to admit that Eruka didn't look bad in her short black dress. See, her dress was sleeveless! So why was he supposed to have his arms arrested?

"*Ribbit* Oh, stop it, Free!" she scoffed, pulling him across the wide intersection of the street. She didn't change directions-so they really were going to the abandoned building? "Any job is better than nothing and you've been a *ribbit* bad mood all day!"

"Have not." he mumbled dejectedly, following her inside the warehouse. She wouldn't believe him. She _liked_ Tom, so Free couldn't change her mind even if he wanted to.

She opened the doors to the warehouse, her hands scuffing on the withered wood as the door swung open. He gagged at the musky stench - it reeked of dust and dead mice in here. The floor was a mess, covered in dirt and littered with chip bags and gum wrappers. Torn curtains allowed the morning light to slither into the room and there was a small lightbulb hanging from the center of the ceiling, broken and its busted glass shattered on the floor underneath it. A small fan clinked and clanked in the corner, a small chain swinging under its frame as each blade of the machine flew into motion.

Narrow plastic tables were pushed to the walls but there weren't any chairs in the room. On the far side of the room, a staircase led down into a basement of some sort and there was a counter with a single bar stool beside it. But that wasn't what surprised him. What surprised was the atrocious man sitting on the bar stool, his feet propped up on the counter as he pulled a lit cigarette from his lips with a gloved hand.

"You need something?" he squinted at them from his bar stool, his other hand revealing a glass of beer that he put to his mouth and took a long sip. "Or you just passin' by?"

"W-Well, um... *Ribbit*" Eruka croaked behind Free, shuffling so that he was between her and the man. "We were sent here by-"

"You the suckers from the cafe?" the man grinned, showcasing a mouth full sharpened teeth. "I've been expecting you."

"Why's that?" Free swallowed, satisfied that his voice sounded much bolder than he actually felt. What? No, he couldn't be nervous. He was immortal! No matter what, he feared nothing! Eruka said he had changed, but he couldn't change so much that he could become a coward, right?

"None of your business." the man shrugged, lazily swinging his feet off the counter, his boots hitting the floor with a resounding thud. "I'm Giriko, by the way."

She shot the man a skirmish smile, her hands going to Free's sleeved arms and gripping his wrists for reassurance, "Ah! *Ribbit! I'm Eruka and-"

"I know who you are. No need for introductions." Giriko scoffed, standing up. But he swayed as if he was tipsy from drinking too much beer and he sucked on his cigarette, the smoke wisping out of his mouth as he talked. "Tom's not here yet. Until he gets here, why don't you take that broom over there and clean up?"

He pointed sluggishly beside the door where a small broom with a broken handle was propped up against the door edge. A dark scowl pulled on Free's face - first Tom robs them, now he can't even manage to keep appearances for Eruka's sake?

But Eruka let go of his arm, already going to the broom. The way she held it innocently, like Giriko was just some bitter guy working an early morning shift and Tom was confidentially late. So the scowl disappeared and he stared at her blankly as she smiled at him, then at Giriko.

Even if Tom was deceitful, Eruka wouldn't believe him. So it was just best he get to work and help her clean.

* * *

_**Meanwhile under the DWMA in Crona's room!**_

* * *

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" a shrill voice shattered Crona's warm dream as he was painfully thrusted onto the cold stone floor. A groan escaped his lips as his face met the stone tiles, a dull headache starting to form from the impact. His arms went to push himself up, shaking from the exercise as his eyes met an excited pair of wide, blue eyes. "Come on! Get up!"

Wordlessly, he rolled over so that he was lying on his back. For a brief moment, his eyes glanced down onto his person as his face flushed, then he sighed in relief. He was wearing clothes. Thank Death he decided to not sleep in the nude last night and put on an oversized black t-shirt and gray pajama pants. Crona didn't know how to deal with more people seeing him naked.

"Get up!" a foot kicked him lightly in the side and he wheezed in response, his eyes shut tight as she accidently hit a tender spot from an old wound. Where was Ragnarok when he needed him?

"I'm awake, Patti." he sighed. Why was she here again? She was going to be the death of him, wasn't she? And he didn't even ask for her to invade his privacy like this either! "Isn't that good enough?"

"Nope!" she grinned, leaning down to grab him by the shoulders and lifted him up easily, her hat hitting his forehead on the way up. Cocking her head playfully, she poked him in the stomach. "Come on! You can't be late!"

"For what?" he didn't want to ask. He really didn't. A sense of dread overcame the headache he was getting - what was he forgetting?

"Your testing, silly!" her grin widened as her hand went to his wrist like a viper, wrapping around it quickly before he could process her dragging him outside into the hallway. As she led him on, she didn't bother closing the door. Not that it really mattered. No one really came down here anyway.

His testing? _His testing_? He had forgotten about his testing?! How could he just forget something so important that it decided his fate in Death City - that decided whether or not he got to see Maka or the rest of his friends? Fear curdled in the pits of his stomach as she kept going, her grip on his wrist almost matching Miss Marie's iron grasp. How he wished Ragnarok would stir - he could use his false confidence right about now.

"Here we are!" she laughed, opening the door to Professor Stein's underground classroom. How can she be so giddy? Oh. She doesn't care if Crona passes his test, does she? Patti isn't close to him, so if he gets thrown out of Death City, what's it matter to her? It doesn't matter to her! Of course! She didn't care!

Pulling him inside, she closed the door behind them as Professor Stein sat at the table, shuffling through some blank papers. There was a third chair in the room now, placed carefully in the corner away from Crona's usual spot and a small paper giraffe sat on its cushion. Professor Stein glanced up at them, his glasses flashing dangerously in the low lighting, "Crona. You're late."

"He was sleeping." Patti shrugged, a smile still plastered on her face as she skipped over to the chair. She picked up the paper giraffe delicately, like the small object could tear if she was too rough with it. And it probably would - Patti wasn't ever delicate for long.

"Sorry." he mumbled, the taste of sleep still in his mouth. Slowly, he made his way to the empty chair across from Professor Stein, carefully sitting down so that he didn't make so much noise that is would disturb him.

"Better late than never, right?" Professor Stein sighed tiredly, bags under his eyes as Crona took a moment to glance at the some of the papers in his hands. Yes, some were his test, but others - most of them, in fact - were graded sheets. Had he been awake all night grading? Professor Stein's hand rustled through the papers, pulling out a blank packet. He plopped the packet in front of Crona, yanking out a pencil from the pocket of his lab coat to shove in Crona's frail hand. Then he took out a red pen from his pocket and marked one of the papers he was previously grading. "You have ninety minutes to complete your test. Begin."

Wait, now? He supposed to complete a test this big in only ninety minutes? He eyed the title of the test nervously - _The Ultimate Written Exam_. Where had he heard that name before? Why was this test so big? Did the professor want him to fail?!

Okay. Deep breaths. He can do this.

Right?

First question. _A sound soul dwells within a sound _ and a sound _._

What?

_What?!_

Professor Stein wanted him fail! How was Crona supposed to know that? He _didn't_ know that! He was going to fail and then Lord Death is going to kick him out of Death City and he wasn't going to see Maka ever again and he was going to be homeless and - and - and-

He looked further down the paper, at the math section. _If f(x) = 2x−5, then what is the value of f(2) + f(5) ?_

Then under a section titled ¨Circumstances:¨ _If student A completes their classes with a 40% but excellence in physical courses, while student B completes their classes with a 90% but fails their physical courses, which of the two students will become EAT students, considering both types of courses?_

Who was supposed to know things like this?

* * *

_**One in the afternoon at the basketball courts. Steve is getting quite bored. Maybe I can go to the unemployment agency and they'll hook me up?**_

* * *

"I'm open!" a sharp cry sounded on the basketball court, shoes pounding on the cement as Soul waved his arms to Liz. She passed by Kid, who was standing carefully in the center of the court as she dribbled the basketball. Maka huffed in front of Soul, annoyed at how the captain's hat drooped lower on her head.

"Catch!" Liz yelled, tossing the ball easily to Soul, much to Maka's dismay as she jumped to try to intercept, but fell flat on her face when she missed. The hat fell limply on the ground as he grinned, shooting basketball into the hoop. The ball went swiftly through the net, hitting Tsubaki on the head - she had been standing there awkwardly the entire time instead of actually getting involved with the game.

"Looks like it's thirty-five to nothing." Soul laughed, watching the ball roll down the court to Kid as Tsubaki rubbed the sore spot on her head. Hive-fiving Liz, he snickered, "You need to step up your game, Maka."

"It's not fair!" Maka huffed, swatting him on the shoulder with one hand as she held the the captain's hat in her other hand. "You have Liz and Kid on your team!"

"And you have Tsubaki. What's your point?" he rolled his shoulders back, taking the hat from her. He smirked, placing the hat back on her head.

"My point is you have three people on your team!" she glared darkly at him under the brim of the hat. "I only have two!"

"Kid doesn't really count." Liz interrupted, pointing to her meister. Kid had seen the basketball by now, snatching the object up as soon as he realized the lines on it were _perfectly symmetrical_ and hugged the ball closely to his chest. Then, a moment later, he threw the ball to the side angrily as he shouted how the ball was dirty and therefore _asymmetrical_ _garbage_. "He's more a roadblock than anything."

"Does…" Maka mumbled, eying the top of Kid's head. There was black scruff growing from his scalp, about an inch long in length **(≅2.54 centimeters for non-Americans)** and three white stripes clung closely to his head. Apparently the stripes appeared if he had hair? "Does he know Marsha's dead?"

"Yes. And I murdered her." Liz nodded, pleased with her work. Then, she waved Tsubaki and Kid over to them. Kid, still annoyed from the disgrace of the basketball, stomped over to them while Tsubaki took careful, timid steps to them.

"Hey," Soul leaned closer to Maka, forcing her to step away to avoid falling over from his weight. He nodded to Tsubaki, "Where's Black*Star?"

"Hm?" Tsubaki bit her lips, nervous about something. But what? Soul didn't know - what was there to be nervous about? No, he had to be imagining it. "He's on his way."

"You didn't walk together?" Kid frowned, wiping his hands on his pants at the same time - he had to be _perfectly symmetrical_ at all times.

"No." she gave a small shrug, not looking them in the eye. Weird. "He - um - had some stuff to do. Weight lifting, I think."

"Ah." Soul eyed her suspiciously as Liz went to grab the basketball. Maybe Tsubaki was hiding something, but he wasn't about to force it out of her. That wouldn't be cool. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Maka and Kid. "How about some two-on-two?"

"Who's sitting out?" Liz scoffed, the ball securely in her arms as she walked over to Kid. "We have five people."

"I'll do it." a small, hasty reply came from Tsubaki and she blushed when everyone's attention turned to her. She gave them a shaky smile, "I mean, to make the teams even."

"Alright." Liz nodded, satisfied. Then, a crooked grin twisted its way onto her face. "How about a wager?"

"What? No!" Maka stamped her foot stubbornly, causing the hat to droop down again and cover the majority of her face. "We haven't even decided teams yet!"

"Kid and me versus you and Soul." Liz quirked a neatly trimmed eyebrow at her, tossing the ball to Soul. "You afraid or something?"

"No!" Maka crossed her arms over her chest. "What are we betting?"

"I dunno." Soul mumbled, amused at her change of attitude. Leave it to Maka to get competitive suddenly.

"Why don't we let Tsubaki choose?" Kid supplied, his hands on his hips. "You know - considering she's not part of the bet."

"Sure." Soul glanced over at Tsubaki, tightening his grip on the basketball. "I don't see why not."

"Oh! Okay," Tsubaki tilted her head in thought and closed her eyes. A second later, her eyes fluttered open with realization. "How about the losing team take the winning team out to dinner?"

"Sure." Liz leaned back on her heels, beginning to get impatient. "It's, like, Monday, right? So let's have the dinner on Friday."

"Great." Soul gave her a toothy grin, throwing her the basketball. "Check me."

* * *

_**Meanwhile with Eruka and Free. Bad news on the unemployment agency thing. Since I'm a figure of Benji's imagination, they can't hire me. Idiots don't know what they're missing.**_

* * *

"My apologies - some hooligan held me up on East Barbod." Tom mumbled softly as he opened the door to the warehouse. Briefcase in hand, he took a swift glance around lobby. Confusion pulled his brow down - it was clean. But Giriko didn't clean. No, that idiot was less helpful than that oversized dog at the cafe uptown.

It was then he saw Eruka curled up to that oversized dog's arm beside the counter next to Giriko, who had his filthy feet propped up on the counter again. That boy had no respect!

"It's alright." Eurka let go of Free's arm, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. Good. She was as gullible as ever. "We weren't waiting long."

"We've been here for _five hours_." Free coughed, straightening his back indignantly. "I'd say that's pretty long."

"Once again - I'm sorry." Tom narrowed his eyes at the large man as he neared them, his knuckles turning white as he held on to the briefcase. He went around the counter to separate himself from Free and Eruka, shoving Giriko's feet from the counter on his way over there. "Like I said - I was held up."

"Ignore him." Eruka swatted at Free, attempting to give Tom a sincere smile. "You said you have a job for us?"

No. He didn't have a job for _us_. Tom had no plans for the both of them. Eruka, yes. He had plans for her - she was perfect for what he had in mind. She was childlike, naive and innocent yet war-ready. Free? He knew too much. He followed them that night - Free was a liability now, a bomb ready to explode. He didn't have a job for _us_.

Free was a liability.

Tom knew how to deal with liabilities. Free was an oversized dog - and like a dog, he needed to be put down. Eyeing his briefcase, he wondered if he should do it now - no, Free was too suspicious. It was too risky to end him now.

Yet not ending him meant putting his company in jeopardy. He was risking everything he had built up to this point - one wrong move could destroy his empire. His followers would desert him, uproar in anger. He was controlling them for now, but-

"Yes." Tom shook his head, moving his gaze from the briefcase to Eruka. "I believe I did."

Free was a liability, but he couldn't be ended just yet. Tom had to Eruka under his thumb first. And if that meant offering jobs for _us_?

So be it.

* * *

**And cut!**

**So I brought in Giriko. I didn't know his name. Actually, I managed to zone out through Arachnophobia throughout the manga and anime. Don't know why. But I did remember Giriko's face, so I had a fun time searching Google for him.**

**The Ultimate Written Exam! Oh no! For the record, I used one of the canon questions, one prep questions from the math section of the ACT, and I just made up the last one. And yes, I converted inches into centimeters. Can't help myself - doing it just for you guys~!**

* * *

**REVIEW! EVEN IF IT'S CREEPY! STILL ENJOY YOUR REVIEWS!**

* * *

**Signing out**

**Sir Ben Evans IV of Kanto**


End file.
